<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Blood (Critical Role Mafia AU) by MaukusNoise</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682701">Blood (Critical Role Mafia AU)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaukusNoise/pseuds/MaukusNoise'>MaukusNoise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blood (Critical Role Mafia AU) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Blood and Violence, CriticalRoleAU, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hangover, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lucien - Freeform, M/M, Mafia AU, MafiaAU, Mafianein, Mollymauk - Freeform, Mollymauk/Lucien, Multi, Other, Raven Queen - Freeform, Twins, Violence, VoxMachina, Yasha - Freeform, mafia, mightyNein, mollymauktealeaf, vax'ildan - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>53,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaukusNoise/pseuds/MaukusNoise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicodranas is a city run by powerful smugglers, criminal masterminds underground gangs. Though the Tomb Takers were scattered over 2 years ago, Lucien Tealeaf 'Peacock' is still climbing the ladder to success. He is hounded by a past he cannot remember ever since someone made an attempt on his life.<br/>The older Tealeaf twin, Molly 'Bloodhunter,' spiralled into a pit of doped-out numbness in the aftermath of Luciens assassination. Despite having his brother back, things are not the same anymore and he is tumbling further down with Cree.<br/>Yasha stands strong beside them both, pulling Bloodhunter out of dumpsters and making sure Lucien actually gets some sleep.<br/>Into their lives waltzes a string of new faces.<br/>Quiet, humble Caleb.<br/>A dark haired man with a flurry of raven feathers.<br/>Dangerously beautiful Avantika.<br/>Vicious snarling Lorenzo, who knows Molly in ways he begs no one will ever discover.<br/>And... A storm from the ocean... A man with an empire of wealth and criminal connections under his belt...<br/>Uk'otoa.</p><p>...<br/>This can only end poorly.</p><p>...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Avantika/Mollymauk, Captain Avantika/Fjord (Critical Role), Captain Avantika/Mollymauk Tealeaf, Captain Avantika/Yasha (Critical Role), Cree &amp; Lucien (Critical Role), Cree &amp; Mollymauk Tealeaf, Cree/Lucien (Critical Role), Fjord/Uk'otoa (Critical Role), Lucien &amp; Mollymauk Tealeaf, Lucien/Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf &amp; Yasha, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Uk'otoa, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Vax'ildan, Raven Queen (Dungeons &amp; Dragons) &amp; Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Raven Queen (Dungeons &amp; Dragons)/Mollymauk Tealeaf/Vax'ildan, Raven Queen (Dungeons &amp; Dragons)/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Uk'otoa/Mollymauk Tealeaf, avantika/uk'otoa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blood (Critical Role Mafia AU) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What's In A Name?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p><p>Here is 'Bloodhunter' Mollys playlist. Some songs are referenced at the beginning of certain chapters.<br/>It's a messy headspace thing but it's very very Mol.<br/>https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLoXM4iL4GZoMjnRsTKdU_wmJu_WHw2N6p</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mol opened his eyes just a smidge. Something was bright. Something was too damn bright. The fuck was that?<br/>
His mouth tasted of iron. </p><p>“Helloooo?”<br/>
He cried out into wherever in the world he’d wound up this time.</p><p>His voice echoed.<br/>
It bounced off tiles and clanged back into his head. </p><p>...Fuuuuuck…</p><p>He sat up.</p><p>CRACK</p><p>“Fuuuuuckk!”<br/>
The top of his head had collided with taps.</p><p>Molly was in a bath.<br/>
Again...</p><p>“...Caleb?!”<br/>
Nah, there was no way he’d got that lucky.</p><p>“Uh... Gorgeous?!”<br/>
Maybe he had hooked up and whoever it was could be somewhere nearby.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Okay, time for the most likely option.</p><p>“YAAAASHHH?!”</p><p>  A door slammed open somewhere down the corridor. Here she comes.<br/>
Mol shifted around, trying to clamber out. But his legs wouldn’t move properly. He shuffled onto his elbows, blinking back the haze leftover from the night before, and glared.</p><p>“Oh you prick.”</p><p>[Text to: ‘Poncy Fucker’<br/>
“OI!!! Mornin u fuckr!! Guessin u know sumthin bout THIS?!!!!”]</p><p>Mol snapped a photo of the heavy combat boots now on his feet and hit send.</p><p>  He didn’t hear the door of the ensuite open as he began to wrestle with the triple-knotted laces. He attempted to stand but slipped and skidded on the wet porcelain.</p><p>“Fuckin’ BOOTS!!!”</p><p>   A low chuckle came from the doorway. Molly looked up and saw Yasha looking infuriatingly clean and sober. Her white shirt was crisp like she’d only just put it on. Her braids were soft cascading down her back. Her eyebrow was raised as she eyed her best friend. She seemed to be having real difficulty keeping a straight face.</p><p>“Yash! Help?”<br/>
Molly adopted his puppy dog look, pouting his lips in a sad frown at her.</p><p>Yasha just smiled.<br/>
“They are good boots. I don’t want to ruin them.”</p><p>Mol threw a shampoo bottle at her.<br/>
“I don’t WEAR SHOES!!”<br/>
It had been years. The circus had only solidified Mol's reserve. He could jump into practice any time he felt like it. Up onto a rope or the silks. He could fly any time he wanted. Because nothing pinned him to the ground. That, and he'd given his last pair to-</p><p>The taller, broader, angelic woman leaned to the side and watched the bottle fly past her into the bedroom.<br/>
“You suit them.” She said simply. Mocking him with her calm.</p><p>Vvvvvvvtttttt, vvvvvvttttt</p><p>Molly grabbed his phone off the bottom of the bathtub.</p><p>[Text from: ‘Poncy Fucker’<br/>
“I don’t know what you’re talking about :P<br/>
Its about time you got some actual footwear.”]</p><p>   Snorting, Mol shoved the phone into his back pocket and staggered out of the bath. Yasha continued to stand annoyingly still, watching him career past her and into the bedroom. It looked the same as every other bedroom in the casino. Silver-grey walls with some abstract floral art piece hung dead centre over the double bed. Rich thick blankets folded back on top of perfect sheets lay untouched, neatly tucked in at the corners. </p><p>So he hadn’t fooled around with anyone in here then.</p><p>  Mol waddled across the pearly carpet and smacked a few of the throw pillows onto the floor. He never could wrap his head around them. Why did this place need hundreds of extra pillows you didn’t even USE, when everything else was already decorated to the nines!</p><p>   He stomped to the door and flung it open, stepping out into a corridor he vaguely recognised. Gold flecked through deep burgundy paper running the length of the hall, lit every few paces by carved lamps dangling from the creamy ceiling. They all looked the damn same. Where was that prick’s bedroom again? Mol rubbed his eyes. Black khol liner smudged on his palms, some crusty blood too.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>He didn’t remember a fight. Gods, what did he remember of last night?<br/>
Mol contemplated as he shuffled towards the stairs at the far end of every floor.<br/>
Yasha followed behind. Ever his shadow. Mol knew she was laughing at him. He knew he looked a sight. Biting back the desire to heave, Mol dragged his feet and took out his phone again.</p><p>[Text to: ‘Poncy Fucker’<br/>
“I cnt WALK!!”]</p><p>Then, a minute further down the corridor.</p><p>[“seriously y do ppl wear these!?!”]</p><p>30 seconds after that.</p><p>[“ohhh I hope ur in a compromising situation u fuck!!!”]</p><p>As he began taking the stairs two at a time, tripping and flailing to grab at the banister, Mol fired off another.</p><p>[“GET THESE OFF ME!”]</p><p>  Coming to a halt when he reached the top floor, Mol yanked a crumpled pack of fags from his other pocket and a lighter from the turn-up of his jeans. They were bright turquoise, torn up across both knees and ridiculously tight. He lit up and inhaled, taking several long deep breaths.</p><p>“Yash stop laughing, I know you are!”</p><p>The woman came alongside him, remnants of a chuckle still evident on her face.<br/>
“Rough one was it?”</p><p>  Mol shot her a withering look, which she fired straight back at him, as he fumbled to light a second cigarette even thought he first was not halfway finished.<br/>
“s’nothin’ okay?” He mumbled. “I just hate these fuckin’ boots an-”<br/>
The previous evening was a blur of playing at the Lavish Chateau, shots, slammers, secret bathroom deals and then nothing. Blissful, glorious nothing. But wait. Hold up. Something else stuck out through the mess. A face. Pale as snow. Blood red lips. Had he met someone? Had he done something?<br/>
Well, jee that sure didn’t narrow it down...</p><p>  Mol pushed it from his mind as he punched in the code for the penthouse floor. Double doors clicked and he barrelled through them, immediately colliding with a trolley and tumbling to the ground. Plates and cleaning supplies wobbled precariously above him but by some miracle did not fall.</p><p>A call came from inside the suite,<br/>
“Everything alright out there?”</p><p>  Mol didn’t reply. His eye had been caught by a thick steak knife lying in the sticky residue on one of the plates. He seized it and began hacking at the tangled knotted bootlaces, cursing under his breath in that strange language only two people in the multiverse understood.<br/>
Yasha stood by, offering her apologies to the cleaning lady for disturbing her work.</p><p>  “HA!” Mol chucked the knife aside and heaved off the dreaded boots.<br/>
Yasha snorted. Mol looked up at her as he got to his feet, deliciously bare on the amber carpet.<br/>
“It must have been a bad one if you don’t remember.” She told him pointedly.<br/>
That Yasha look was back in her eyes and Molly knew he was in for it. “You got us banned for a month. Again. Marion said she’s cancelled our next three shows and is waiting on your apology.”</p><p>Mol grunted.</p><p>“You smashed up half the bar, Mol. Caused a heap of damages. You’re lucky she’s so forgiving. And rich enough to replace it all.”</p><p>Mol swept into a deep low bow.<br/>
“Tha’s me isn’t it! Lucky, lucky me!”</p><p>“Luck always runs out, Mol.” Yasha warned him. “You keep going like this, you’re living on borrowed time.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up!” Mol snapped.<br/>
That face washed into his mind again. Emotionless features, blank like a mask. Black hair hung in a wave. Death red lips.</p><p>  Yasha did not argue with him, which only enraged Mol more. He began to yell, screaming at the face before him that in those moments did not belong to his friend at all. She saw him. She was there. She was coming.<br/>
“Just quit it, okay?! I heard it all before! An’ I know you’re as sick of tellin’ me as I am of hearin’ you fuckin’ say it so can we just-”</p><p>“Could you maybe not shout? I do have guests in the rooms downstairs.”<br/>
A familiar voice cut across Molly’s outburst.</p><p>  The wisps of memory faded away as Mol turned, rounding on the man now striding towards them down the hallway.<br/>
“Didn’t you like your boots? I figured they matched the rest of your aesthetic.”</p><p>“You fuckin’ arrogant, poncy, prick!” Mol snarled. “They’re goin’ to the first homeless guy I see. Oh how IS Caleb, by the way? Saw you gettin’ cosy last night.”</p><p>“Why? Are you jealous?”</p><p>   Molly narrowed his eyes as the pair reached one another. He stared daggers at the man in front of him. Red eyes stared back. The same peacock feathers tattooed a trail down both of their right cheeks, ending in a swirl at their collarbones. The same lavender curls mirrored his own, sweeping down past their ears. Although the man stood at exactly his height had more recently washed; his clean waves smelled of fruits. The two men looked the same. Identical as they had been since birth, but not now. Not ever again.</p><p>“Fuck off, Luc.” Molly hated using that name now. But he couldn’t stop. It fell from his lips without conscious thought. Lucien. His Lucien. But his Luc wasn’t here anymore. </p><p>This man was left in his stead. “Sorry, PEACOCK.” Mol corrected himself with a bite of sarcasm.</p><p>“Apology accepted, BloodHunter.” Peacock replied, switching to their alias's without missing a beat. “I hope he hasn’t been giving you too much flak, Yasha?”</p><p>Yasha shook her head.<br/>
“I made sure to have a drink before I went looking for him.”</p><p>Peacock nodded.</p><p>“You got that job for us or not?” Mol demanded. “I’m dangerously close to bein’ bored.”</p><p>“I do, yes. And I shall tell you all about it after you’ve had a shower.” Peacock looked Molly up and down. “And changed your clothes too. Gods, haven’t you been wearing those for a week straight?” </p><p>  Mol picked at his baggy black vest. It was almost as shredded as his jeans, and stains in varying shades of alcohol and blood littered both. He offered Peacock a noncommittal shrug and said,</p><p>“Fine. Be back in an hour.”<br/>
With that, Molly turned on his heel and stalked off, scooping up the discarded boots as he walked away from his twin. </p><p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Don't Stop Me Now!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An Alternative Universe Mafia setting, featuring characters from Critical Role campaigns 1 &amp; 2.<br/>Yasha tries to clean Molly up. Peacock gives them a job. <br/>Molly causes a scene...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server. <br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“YASH IMMA KILL YOU!”</p>
<p>   Molly spluttered from the cubicle. He was naked. He was wet. He was pissed off. And now, he was covered in shampoo.</p>
<p>The tall warrior of a woman stood balanced on the toilet, one foot pinning the shower door closed as warm water sprayed down onto Molly while he scrambled for release. Then he felt more cold sludgy liquid land on his head and he raised a middle finger up towards the jets of water, blindly yelling,</p>
<p>“Yaaaashhhh!”</p>
<p>“Rub it all in, Mol, I can see you know!” She called down at him, leaning her elbows on the top of the cubicle walls. </p>
<p>“Fuck sake!”</p>
<p>Mol scrubbed his scalp and continued to swear in every colourful phrase he could think of until the water ran clear and his entire body smelt of Yasha’s vanilla bean bath product.</p>
<p>   With a smirk, Yasha let him out and threw him a towel. Molly rubbed himself dry and stepped over to the floor length mirror, flicking lilac curls out of his eyes with a frown.</p>
<p>  A pale man, nearing 6ft stared back. The twins had reddened eyes, blood-splotched across each iris, their old colour lost. Mol blinked slowly, pulling at his eyelids, examining them. Whatever that gas had been, it was fucking nasty. He remembered that whole night like a bleary dream. Luc had been so adamant, so certain. Mol had gone too without question. It would work. They’d be running the city in no time. The Tomb Takers had everything they needed and everything was going according to Lucien’s plan. But then, sirens. Nowhere to hide underground. Just desperate scrambling for the one door. Smoke. He’d thought the cops had set the building on fire. Smoke them out. But no. No it was worse. Some newfangled tear gas or something. They’d never found out what. Cops always hated them. It hurt too. Burning their eyes. The twins were the last ones out. Mol had thrown Luc ahead of him and slammed the door. Then they’d run. Run until their vision cleared and everyone had scattered. All that was left were four crimson blood-shot eyes. </p>
<p>  But that fitted with the rest of him. ‘Junkie aesthetic,’ Luc called it. Mol was thin. He’d always been wirey, and perhaps that was his saving grace now. He wasn’t yet wasting away. Though there was a greyish tinge to his lips, the lobes between rows of earrings and beneath the scuffed polish on his fingernails. </p>
<p>Mol turned, dropping the towel, to examine the bruise on his side. </p>
<p>   “Where th’fuck..?”</p>
<p>He’d been fighting. Of course.</p>
<p>   The fresh deep navy arced across his ribs, meeting the sketched poppies all down Mol’s right side. They ran in abstract patterns from the midst of his armpit all the way down his leg to curl around his ankle. Mol had covered himself in inked pictures. The peacock feathers on his cheek, he shared with Lucien, but the rest were their own. Luc had a handful, Mol had many. Some he had long forgotten the meaning of; like on his back- the logo of a band he’d met in a dingy club, and a laughing face with ‘Funny’ scrawled near his elbow. Others were just thoughts, moments or ideas. Roses on his feet, bees on his knees, a snake coiled around his arm, twin guns draped in beads slid down his stomach onto his crotch, suits of cards littering his left arm. Then there were the important ones. Snapshots of circus performers down his left thigh, front and back. ‘Yasha’ was inked in swirling letters across his calf, and ‘Lucien’ spiralled down his right wrist underneath the snake. Reminders of home. What used to be home. What never would be again. <br/>   His favourites were the quotes scribbled across half of his chest. They were all from Romeo &amp; Juliet. He’d seen it once at a theatre down town, and loved the crazy way they all talked. He’d gone out to find a copy of the script and struggled through it in private for weeks. Then he’d taken the best parts and had them etched into his skin. </p>
<p>    Kicking the towel aside, Molly released his reflection from his gaze and strode out into casino bedroom 26 which was on permanent reserve for him. </p>
<p>It was, as always, a tip.</p>
<p>The wardrobe stood empty while his clothes were scattered across almost every inch of floor space. Stickers he’d plastered on the window obscured the view over Nicodranas and most of the light. Hair ties and bandanas sat on each surface, but there was no sign of a hairbrush or any deodorant. Molly picked up a black khol pencil and chalked around his eyes, finishing with a swirl of glittering gold. </p>
<p>Then he began rifling through the clothes.</p>
<p>“Something clean, Mol.” Yasha directed. </p>
<p>Molly waved a nonchalant hand in her direction and continued his search through a heap. Eventually he found what he wanted. A pair of bright pink jeans torn at both knees. They sat low on his hips, showing off the guns inked down his stomach. Of course he didn’t bother with shoes, but he did pull on a black vest. It had the word ‘Chaos’ printed all over it.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   Yasha nudged Molly through the door. He’d been attempting to straighten his wet hair between his fingers. No joy. So he threw on a bandana to keep it off his face and headed straight for the mini bar in the corner. </p>
<p>   The office was as well put-together as Peacock himself. Polished wood surfaces, colour pops of modern art on the walls, long high windows and of course the man himself. Molly eyed the expensive waistcoat with swirls of lavender and the white silk shirt. </p>
<p>‘Poncy prick.’ He thought.</p>
<p>   But he still found himself wishing his twin well. He detested himself for it, but it was what Mol had always wanted. It was the reason why he’d dragged his twin out the window with him one clear night 14 years ago. He wanted more for them both, but he wanted the best for Lucien. Well, now it seemed he had it. Mol should be glad for his twin. Right?</p>
<p>He pushed these thoughts aside. Fuck it. He would be happy for Luc. </p>
<p>He would.</p>
<p> He’d try.</p>
<p>   Lucien was sitting at his desk pouring over emails. Mol recognised the look of determination as his twin concentrated through the words. Neither of them had graduated high school. They had vanished out the window just before their 16th Birthday, scuppering all plans for final exams. Reading had always been tricky too. The words jumbled and letters were always in the wrong places. The twins had muddled through enough on charm and bullshit, but neither had actually properly learnt to read. <br/>  Yasha took the seat opposite Peacock. Mol yanked open the mini bar and grabbed himself a bottle. </p>
<p>“You can pay for that.” Peacock instructed his brother.</p>
<p>“I got cash. Don’ have a paddy.” Mol threw a handful of notes at the desk, struck the cap off the bottle on the windowsill and took a long sip. </p>
<p>“So, this job.” Peacock turned the laptop to face the other two. Mol ignored the screen and continued to drink. Yasha scanned the message. </p>
<p>“Essentially,” Peacock explained, crimson eyes watching Mol, “A client is looking for someone to cause a distraction in a gallery while they steal a painting. I thought it was rather up your street.”</p>
<p>Mol snorted.<br/>“How much?”</p>
<p>“More than enough to keep you shot-up to your eyeballs for a few months. Although, knowing you, you’ll most likely blow through it in a couple of weeks.”</p>
<p>Mol slammed the bottle down on the desk.<br/>“You don’ know me.” He snarled.</p>
<p>“Boys!” Yasha cut across them, clipping Mol round the ear. </p>
<p>“Ow!” He jerked out of her reach.</p>
<p>“When?” Yasha addressed Peacock. </p>
<p>“Tonight. The Foster Gallery. They want it at 8pm sharp. Which means you must be there on time.”</p>
<p>“Gotcha.” Mol got up. “Laters.”</p>
<p>He made for the door, but Peacock called him back. <br/>“As always, there can be nothing connecting me to this. Make sure you wear a-"</p>
<p>“Disguise, yeah yeah I know I know.” <br/>Mol rolled his eyes and pulled the door open. <br/>“As always, Nicodranas will stay blissfully ignorant that there’s fuckin’ two of us.”<br/>With a wave of his middle finger, Mol left the office.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>[Text to: ‘Featherbrains’<br/>“got fun stuf. Hedin 2 glry. keep eye on locl news.”]</p>
<p>[Text to: ‘Featherbrains’<br/>“fuk it. Goin 4 natonal news!”]</p>
<p>[Text from: ‘Featherbrains’<br/>“what do u mean fun stuff? what th fuck did u do?”]</p>
<p>   Molly sends back a photo of himself with his tongue sticking out, stood across the road from the gallery. He adjusts the tartan earflaps on the new hat and zips up the grey hoodie, then heads round to the side to meet Yasha.</p>
<p>“Arright, so we got like half an hour. Usual plan, right? If shit hits the fan, let ‘em arrest me then come bail me out. Cool?”</p>
<p>Mol looked nothing like himself. He’d dabbed concealer over the peacock tattoo, and although he still had bare feet, the overall effect was successful. </p>
<p>Yasha sighed, looking resigned.<br/>“Sure. You have ID too, right?”</p>
<p>Molly nodded.</p>
<p>“Yuup! I’m a student at the art college! Taliesin Jaffe, pleased to meetcha!”<br/>He swept into a low bow.</p>
<p>Yasha snorted.<br/>“Right then. You go ahead. I’ll stay back and keep an eye on-"</p>
<p>But Molly had already bounded away.</p>
<p>   *</p>
<p>   The gallery was ablaze with lights, and full of people. Mol swiped a fancy pencil as he passed the gift shop, pocketing it and ploughing on through the crowds. <br/>He trusted Yasha to be following. She was always there. <br/>He waved through the people until he reached the grand foyer. There were no paintings in there, so Mol reasoned that this must be a good place. He tapped away on his phone, and jumped up on his tiptoes to set a portable mini speaker on top of a statue. </p>
<p>Then he hit Play: Epic Mix!<br/>   ‘Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time...’</p>
<p>Heads began to turn as Mol turned the volume up to full. The little device packed a wallop! Grinning, he clambered under the barrier ropes keeping the public back from a collection of Greek statues. </p>
<p>‘I feel aliiiive, and the world I’ll turn it inside out...’ </p>
<p>Mol didn’t notice Yasha edging closer through the crowds gathering to stare, her eyes fixed on the security guards slowly circling. Still grinning, Mol bounded between the statues and began to sing along loudly, whipping a pair of rainbow poi out of the hoodie pocket which he twirled around in the air as he danced along. </p>
<p>...need to get high... HA! Not the first time I thought that today!</p>
<p>Mol looked around and spotted the large spiralling staircase winding around the wall of the main foyer, and dangling low from the ceiling in the middle... A chandelier. </p>
<p>Bingo.</p>
<p>   By the end of the first chorus, Mol was darting up the banisters and gaining speed. Every face below was turned towards his antics, and the attention spurred him on. <br/>He could almost see the stripes on the big top, almost taste the glitter in the air, almost see Lucien’s face as the twins swung out over the cheering crowd.</p>
<p>Mol jumped.</p>
<p>He landed in the midst of the chandelier. It creaked and rocked violently. There were shouts from the crowd below. Phones flashed, pointed directly at Molly.</p>
<p>Then he had an excellent idea.</p>
<p>Lowering himself down, Molly shimmied on his stomach until he was dangling upside down off the side of the crystals and lights. Then he swirled the poi below him and bellowed,<br/>“Don’t stop me nooow! I’m havin’ such a good tiiiime!” </p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye he spotted two figures in dark clothes slipping through a side door, carrying a long thin bag.</p>
<p>But like hell was he stopping, not until he made headlines! Molly twisted in the air, spinning the chandelier with him in a whirl of colours and singing and-</p>
<p>   And a crowd was chanting. And the spotlights were shining. And Molly held Lucien’s hand in his hand. And they were unstoppable. </p>
<p>“Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit! I’m travelling at the speed of liiiiighhht!” </p>
<p>   Something snapped.</p>
<p>“Woooahhh shit!” The hat slid off Molly’s head.</p>
<p>   Yasha appeared suddenly. A surge of thunder in a stormy sky. She stood leaning out over the marble railing, desperate hands urging Molly to just come to her. To come back, to stop. That he had done enough and they needed to get out of there. </p>
<p>  But there was glitter in Mollys lungs. Somewhere in his imaginings he could hear Gustav calling to the audience.<br/>“The Flying Peacock Twins, ladies and gentlemen won’t you show them your love!” <br/>   They were cheering. Screaming. Yelling. Molly basked in it, breathed it in great gasps with the glitter. Beautiful colours popped all around him. The world was so bright. Molly had always thought so. Somehow his eyes saw bursts of it and it never went away no matter how many times he blinked. His world was lit with dazzling colours. </p>
<p>Magic.</p>
<p>“Mo- TALIESIN! That’s enough now!” </p>
<p>Was that Yasha? She’d never seen the circus. She should see the circus.</p>
<p>“Get down! Now! Come here!”</p>
<p>But he was flying. Higher than all the faces. Higher than the Greek gods. Higher than-<br/>“Fuuuck!”</p>
<p>The chandelier fell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Molly fell too. </p>
<p>*<br/>“Close your eyes real tight. Squeeze them ‘til you see it. Do you see it? The flash of, like, gold light? Now open them!”<br/>Lucien was sat under the bedcovers with Molly, down the hall a grandfather clock was chiming midnight. Mol watched eagerly as Lucien opened his eyes and looked around in the torch light. <br/>“Wow! How did you do that, Mol?” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Mol?”</p>
<p>“Mol!”</p>
<p>   A pale face stood in the watching crowd. Ruby red lips and a blank stare.</p>
<p>“Fuck fuck fuck!”</p>
<p>Then she was gone.</p>
<p>   Molly was lifted in sturdy arms. Yasha.<br/>“Yash... I flew!” Molly could not stop giggling. </p>
<p>   “Not now, you complete idiot.”</p>
<p>Yasha flung him over her shoulder and barged back through the crowds. Soon, the pair were crouched behind a dumpster in an alley many streets away from the gallery. </p>
<p>Still giggling, Molly pulled off the hoodie and ruffled up lavender curls. <br/>“Shootin’ through the sky like a tiiiiger...” He sang to himself. He patted his pockets.<br/>“Damnit, no fags! Owwww!! Sonofabitch! Yash! Yaaaash?”</p>
<p>“What did you do now?”</p>
<p>Why was she mad?</p>
<p>“Jesus, okay. Hold still. STILL, Molly!” </p>
<p>   They sat in silence while she examined his wrist. Then her phone beeped.<br/>“Peacock’s nearly here.”</p>
<p>“What? Whatchew call him for?” </p>
<p>“We need a fucking ride, Molly! Jesus.”</p>
<p>   A sleek black car with tinted windows rolled into view at the end of the alley. </p>
<p>“Oh fucks sake.”</p>
<p>   Peacock emerged, already halfway through a cigarette. As he strode down the dingy alleyway, he saw Molly reaching for a drag and stubbed it out under a polished pointed shoe.</p>
<p>Mol sighed and bubbles of blood popped on his lips. </p>
<p>  “Heeey there bro! So, was I on the news?”</p>
<p>Peacock knelt down beside his twin and tutted, looking him over with a scowl. <br/>“Yes. You were on a live-stream. I caught the whole thing.” </p>
<p>His eyebrows knitted together in concern as he reached for Molly’s wrist. <br/>“Alright, no more moving. You’ll just make it worse. You probably cracked half your ribs too. Fucks sake, what am I going to do with you?”</p>
<p>Yasha’s voice drifted through the haze as Mol blinked up at the two of them.<br/>“We can’t take him to hospital. Too many questions.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know. I know. Then... Cad?”</p>
<p>“Cad. And you’ll have to stay in bed for a few days too, Molly. You hear me?”</p>
<p>“Boorrriiinnggg!! Jus’ chuck a plaster on, I’m fiiiiine!” Mol made to stand up but Peacock and Yasha both pushed him back down.</p>
<p>“How fucking high are you right now?” Peacock demanded.</p>
<p>“Soarin’!” Molly giggled.</p>
<p>“For fucks sake. On a job? For real, Mollymauk?” </p>
<p>   Peacock took off his coat and handed it to Yasha. <br/>“Wrap him up. I’d rather get blood on this than the car.” </p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sea Bitch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mollymauk remembers back to the day he reunited with the brother he thought was dead.<br/>Then see's a familiar raven boy.<br/>And rounds off the day with some breaking and entering onboard the Squall-Eater</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server. <br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Three. Sea Bitch.</p><p>   “Shady bitch!”</p><p>“Useless junkie!”</p><p>“Sea witch!”</p><p>“Fuck you!”</p><p>“Fuck you!”</p><p>   Mollymauk slammed his heels against the bar and jumped off the counter to stand right in front of the woman now glaring daggers at him.<br/>
“If you hurt him-” Molly growled, jabbing a thumb towards Lucien, who swiftly moved to stand between the pair. “Imma tie my bass strings round yer throat an’ squeeze till I break your goddamn neck!”</p><p>“Oooh I’m so scared of the scrawny little waster!” The woman with long auburn curls mocked.</p><p>“That’s enough, Molly!” Lucien snapped. He stood firm, his back to Avantika now and an arm loosely snaking around her waist.</p><p>Molly snarled.</p><p>“Look, just go. Alright? Go.” Lucien pointed towards the doors up to the bedrooms.</p><p>Molly shakes his head, lip curled tight.<br/>
“Screw you both.” He storms out of the casino, lighting a fag as he stomped down the street. </p><p>   That shady bitch had come swanning into their lives and within a week his twin was fucking besotted. Sure, Luc kept saying they were ‘doing business’ and ‘finalising trade agreements,’ but Molly wasn’t blind. Molly saw shit. Molly saw a lot of shit. No one believed him, but he saw it. And he saw something between the piercing blue eyes of a sea bitch and the crimson bloody eyes of his twin. Something dangerous. Something the fucking witch could manipulate. </p><p>   Molly would always be the older brother. That never went away, even though most who met the twins would likely agree that Lucien was the more likely to be able to take care of himself. That didn’t matter. Mollymauk had a responsibility. Even if this shell was just his brothers skin. He wanted to protect him. You see, some tiny part of Molly believed that one day his real Lucien would come back, and making sure no harm came to his body was the very least his brother could do.</p><p>   ‘I hate her.’ Molly thought, finishing his cigarette and tossing it to the ground. ‘How can Luc trust her? Can’t he see how fuckin awful she is? She’s usin him! She wants summat. I dunno!’</p><p>He drummed his fingers down his arms and fumbled in his back pocket.</p><p>Not much left.</p><p>Irritated, Molly shot off a text.</p><p>[To: ‘Baby’<br/>
“Hey. Need mor gear. Meet at urs? 2nite? Xxx”]</p><p>   And the LOOK Lucien had given him!<br/>
Molly was back in his mental tirade.</p><p>Defending that cow! Sure, the twins hadn’t exactly been getting along since they found each other again, but that look had been almost as bad as...<br/>
Reaching an intersection, Molly tapped his bare feet on the edge of the pavement and considered. </p><p> </p><p>*<br/>
Running.</p><p>Mollymauk was running.</p><p>Harder than he had in years. Two long years. Had it really been two years? Two years of thinking it had been just Mollymauk. Only Molly. Two years alone. Two years hurting and screaming and begging. Two years with the tether binding twin souls severed forever. </p><p>But then. </p><p>A dazzling beautiful chance. </p><p>In the most bizarre of ways, but how else could it have happened really? </p><p>A stern message in his inbox. </p><p>Molly had re-read it over and over. </p><p>[“For the attention of ‘Devil Tongue,’<br/>
Kindly stop using my likeness in your work. I have been mistaken for you too many times now, and it has become a nuisance.<br/>
Yours sincerely, Mollymauk Tealeaf (OG)”]</p><p>   Certain it had to be a prank, Molly had clicked on the user’s icon. A casino. Molly had searched the web and found it.<br/>
‘The Cult of Dionysis.’ And it was in Nicodranas. Molly had scrolled through the website, checking the place out. Looked swanky as hell. Under new management, it said. Earlier that year.</p><p>Then...</p><p>Then Molly’s heart had stopped in his chest.</p><p>One photograph. There was no information about the owner, no bio or gallery. There was a page of interior shots showing crowds playing games, drinking and dining. And one face stood amongst a group by a blackjack table. The date said it was a couple of months ago. And that was his face. Molly would know his twin anywhere.<br/>
Lucien had changed his hair, it sat styled and perfect curved around his jaw. Perhaps a slightly lighter shade of lilac dye too. He was dressed up. Molly had never seen his brother in such fine clothes. Immaculate waistcoat, silk shirt and was that a tie?! </p><p>Molly had stared for a long time. Then he began to run.</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>   The pedestrian light turned green and Molly crossed the busy street. Half lost in his head, he didn’t immediately register the bike revving its engine as he passed.<br/>
It was white, every inch. Except for inky black ravens etched into the fenders front and rear. </p><p>Molly had one toe on the opposite curb when his stomach jolted. </p><p>Violet curls spun as he turned to stare at the bike, feeling the unearthly stare of those birds watching him. Then crimson eyes moved up to focus on the rider. </p><p>   They were clad in black leathers, detailed across the back with blue wings. As Molly looked, he realised the face under the helmet was looking right back.</p><p>“Vax..?” Molly breathed.</p><p>The rider held up their right hand, slowly tapping gloved fingertips over their heart, then pointing to Mollymauk.</p><p>“Fuck...”</p><p>   The lights changed.<br/>
The bike sped off.</p><p>Mollymauk was alone again.</p><p> </p><p>*<br/>
But he wasn’t alone. Never would be again. His twin was playing a trick. He must be. Getting Molly’s attention and calling him back. Why had Luc taken so long? What had he been doing for two years? How had he come to own a casino?!</p><p>Mol pushed all thought from his mind, redoubling his efforts to just run.</p><p>   It took longer than he would have liked. Mol was only a couple hours into a hit. His stamina wasn’t what it used to be. He had staggered out of the house, barely dressed. His jeans were old and falling apart. The t-shirt hung looser than ever, sporting some image long lost through too much wear and tear. But the casino was set firmly in his mind. The address fixed there, emblazoned like a neon sign lighting his head. So Molly ran.</p><p>   Exhausted but ecstatic, Mollymauk burst through the main doors to ‘The Cult of Dionysus’ casino. He avoided the large security guards on their circuits, not wanting to attract any trouble for once in his life and began scanning the place for the other half of his soul. Certain he’d somehow sense Lucien before he saw him; Mol passed rows of slot machines, tables surrounded by eager gamblers, the restaurant, and some kind of stage. No luck. </p><p> Sprawled across the back of the vast room was a long bar. Molly wound his way through the throngs of people towards it. Perhaps he could ask the bar staff where their boss was? He had just made up his mind when a voice called his name.</p><p>   “Molly? What the fuck are you wearing? Mr. Shorthalt just got here, do you want me to take him to your office and wait?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>Mol’s eyebrows crinkled as he stared at the woman coming towards him. She was very tall. Molly wasn’t short by any stretch, and this broad was TALL. She had long black hair with white braids and was built like a wrestling champion. </p><p>“Molly, do you not want to change? I mean, it’s not my business but I don’t think the sweaty hobo look suits you.”</p><p>Molly stood, completely confused.</p><p>“Wha..?”</p><p>“Oh, come on. Tell me all about it upstairs. People are staring.”</p><p>The woman placed a strong but gentle hand on his shoulder and steered him towards a set of double doors at the back of the casino, leading into a hotel-style lobby with elevators and a winding staircase going to the higher floors. From what Molly had seen outside, this place looked like it had at least 5 floors.</p><p>   When they reached the nearest elevator, the woman pulled out a keycard and scanned it. Then they were inside, heading up and up and up.<br/>
As the lift jangled in silence, Molly managed to form a sort of sentence.<br/>
“H-how’d you know my name?” He asked.</p><p>“Are you drunk or something?” The woman was staring down at him with an odd expression.</p><p>The lift doors opened.<br/>
They stepped out into a hallway papered in gold and burgundy.<br/>
“Woah...” Molly’s eyes were wide as he gaped at the immaculate surroundings. His twin had done it. He’d made it. Fuck Molly was proud.</p><p>“Alright, seriously. Mollymauk, what on earth is-”</p><p>The woman began, but she was cut off by a voice that flooded every vein in Mol’s body with light and air.<br/>
“Yasha? I’ve been looking for you. Mr. Shorthalt’s in my office, are you still okay to stand guard in case of any-”</p><p>   Lucien Tealeaf stopped dead. Two pairs of crimson eyes met.</p><p>But at the look his twin was giving him, all the warmth abandoned Mollymauk completely. </p><p>“Luc..?”</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>   A shiver of dread ran down his spine and remained with him all the way through the city. Molly didn’t know what to do. She was coming for him. She knew where he was. She would send Vax to bring him back.<br/>
He should never have run. He knew she’d catch up. She had been toying with him. Letting him think he’d got away. But the Queen see’s all. Molly knew that. Molly knew. </p><p>  His heart was racing. He was still so angry. He could do nothing now but wait for the Queen to find him. But like fuck was he going to just sit back and let this new sea bitch get her claws into his twin.</p><p>Mol pulled out his phone.</p><p>[To: Ya$haaa<br/>
“meet me at docks. Got invstg8in 2 do”]</p><p> </p><p>*<br/>
Lucien had looked at Mollymauk like a stranger. Worse than that, like a stranger he didn’t want to be anywhere near. </p><p>Molly tried again, the only word he could form on his tongue.<br/>
“Luc..?”</p><p>Lucien did not so much as blink.</p><p>“My name is Mollymauk Tealeaf.” He said briskly. “You are ‘Devil Tongue’ I assume? Come to explain why you chose MY likeness for your smut films?”</p><p>Molly swallowed.<br/>
“Luc... I don’t...”</p><p>But his twin was continuing,<br/>
“Look, what you choose to do with your body for money is not my concern. My complaint is that you use my likeness, and my name to do it. I’ve had people come up to me in the street asking for autographs from Mollymauk ‘Devil Tongue’ Tealeaf! It’s not on, alright? I don’t know why you insist on-”</p><p> Molly finally found his voice,<br/>
“I’m your brother for fucks sake!”</p><p>Both Yasha and Lucien replied in unison,<br/>
“What?!”</p><p>“Yeah! We’re TWINS, you fuckin idiot!”</p><p>He had been so happy, mere moments ago. How could this reunion have gone so wrong?</p><p>“Twins! An your name ain’t Mollymauk, is LUCIEN. You’re Lucien Tealeaf, an I’M MOLLY!”</p><p>   Silence hung between the three of them. Unbroken. Unnerving. Molly stared defiantly at his brother, feeling hope trickling away.<br/>
His twin didn’t know him anymore.</p><p>“...brother..?” Lucien rasped, after staring at Molly for a long time. “Nobody told me I had a brother.”<br/>
*</p><p> </p><p>   The Squall-Eater sat low in the water. The docks were fairly quiet. Evening was drawing close. That sea bitch was out for dinner with Lucien, buttering him up ready to dig her manicured claws into him. Molly crept around to the other end of the boat, listening to Yasha’s distraction.</p><p>   “Good evening, I’m wanting a word with your Captain.” He heard her addressing the broad-shouldered man in a green shirt. Mol watched, peeking over the edge of the deck.</p><p>“Evening, ma’am.” The man responded, stood by the main door. “I’m afraid the Cap’ isn’t here just now. Kindly step back.”</p><p>“There’s no need for the guard dog routine, what’s your name?”</p><p>“Name’s Fjord. Why aren’t you with Peacock, doing HIS guard dog routine?”</p><p>Ah, so he knew who she was. Shit.</p><p>Mol looked around, finding an open window and slipped through.<br/>
“Fuckin hell.” He murmured, looking around at a magnificent kitchen, all gleaming tiles and polished marble.</p><p>Yasha and Fjord were still having their back and forth outside, so Molly moved quickly through the kitchen, grabbing an iced bun from a cooling rack as he went into a hallway. He was looking for a study or a bedroom. Anything that might have some clue about why this shady bitch had ridden in off the sea and struck up a relationship with Lucien. It felt too damn fishy. </p><p>Mol snorted at that idea.<br/>
“Fishy sea bitch.” He chuckled to himself. </p><p>   All Luc would tell him and Yash was that she wanted to ‘do business.’ But they’d been together too much for it to be just business. She’d been in Nicodranas for 3 months now, and had spent most of that time brunching, lunching or dining with Lucien, in the office with Lucien, or at bar with Lucien. Molly didn’t trust her. It was too much all at once, and the fact she’d never allowed any of them anywhere near her ship had cemented it in his mind. No matter what, he wanted to protect his younger brother. </p><p>   Another hallway. Fuck, how big was this thing? Mol felt the tell-tale shake in his hands as he headed down some steps, so he paused to listen for anyone else aboard, and popped his last pill. </p><p>It took effect quickly. His hands stopped trembling and he got an uncontrollable fit of the giggles as he made his way further into the depths. </p><p>“Ahaa.”<br/>
A door up ahead. Sturdy, fireproof. Bingo.</p><p>Mol turned the handle.<br/>
Locked.</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>“Who’s there?”</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Up on deck, Fjord’s voice called down,<br/>
“What’s going on down there Vera?”</p><p>“Someone’s here!” The female voice just down the corridor from Molly yelled back.</p><p>“SHIT! Who’d you bring, Yasha? Peacock sent you right, to sneak around while he kept our Captain busy?”</p><p>Molly didn’t hear Yasha’s response. </p><p>A woman much shorter than he, but looking infinitely stronger somehow, rounded the corner.<br/>
“Where are you, thief hey?!” She was shouting, checking every door she passed. </p><p>There was no other way out, so Molly held on tight to the iced bun and sprinted for the stairs.</p><p>“I got you now!” Footsteps rang out behind him.</p><p>“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuccckk!”<br/>
Molly hurtled around the corner on the next floor, but-</p><p>“Who the fuck is here?!”<br/>
Fjord had come storming inside, drawing nearer through the kitchen. His escape route.</p><p>“Fucking fuck-balls of fuckery.”</p><p>Molly back-peddled, turning away from the stairs and into a lounge. It was beautiful, he had to admit, as he tore across it. His toes curled briefly into a thick soft woven rug, the sofas were all draped in cosy throws in shades of ocean turquoise. It all looked very lovely. Mol stroked greeny tassels as he passed, leaving a sticky hand print on the arm of that particular sofa. </p><p>   The footsteps were right behind him now, both sets.</p><p>There were no more rooms. Mol was cornered.</p><p>His phone began to buzz. Molly thanked the gods he’d remembered to switch it to silent before heading inside. </p><p>Footsteps. Right by the door.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Molly turned on the spot in a wild desperate circle. </p><p>Window.</p><p>He darted onto the longest sofa by the huge row of windows overlooking the bay, heaving at the handles and ramming each with his shoulder until he found one that opened. </p><p>“What the-”<br/>
As the voices of Vera and Fjord came into the lounge just as Mollymauk shoved the bun into his mouth and swan-dived out of the window into the bay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Rose-Tinted Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(This chapter includes some references to drug-use)</p>
<p>   Lucien and Mollymauk argue. Mollymauk seeks refuge with an old friend and feeds his bad habits.<br/>Sometimes, the twins do manage to bond though...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Four. </p>
<p>Rose-Tinted Memories.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Luc was mad. Really really mad. Mol stood in his sodden jeans, wringing out the corner of his t-shirt as Lucien paced the length of his office back and forth. </p>
<p>“Imbecile!” Words rang trough the room. “Complete violation!”<br/>
Lucien stopped and two pairs of angry crimson eyes met.</p>
<p>“I was just trying.... To... To protect-“</p>
<p>“TO PROTECT ME?!”</p>
<p>Lucien roared, rounding on his brother.<br/>
“I’ve done just fine without your protection ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, Mollymauk! All you’ve done is fight and break things and get high off your ass and I ALWAYS wind up fixing your mess!” </p>
<p>“Luc, I-“</p>
<p>“I don’t CARE what you were trying to do!”</p>
<p>“Luc!”</p>
<p>“No! Shut UP! I don’t care! I don’t CARE! Just go.”</p>
<p>“Luc...”</p>
<p>“Go. Away.”</p>
<p>*<br/>
*<br/>
*</p>
<p>   The streets were noisy. Elbows caught at his sides, bottles smashed underfoot. Molly moved slowly through the crowds, avoiding staggering groups and ducking down in a doorway. The glow of the clubs shone in a hazy blur as he buried his face in his hands. </p>
<p>   Fingers inked with roses began to tremble. </p>
<p>“Fuck...”</p>
<p>   His skin was burning. Suddenly the music pouring out of the nearest bar was filling his head, making it throb. </p>
<p>   Pockets... Pockets...</p>
<p>Molly fumbled, bringing up a handful of cash, a ruined pack of cigarettes, a packet of jellybeans and his phone.</p>
<p>“Fuck, fuckfuckfuuuuccckkk!”</p>
<p>Wait, there it was! A small bag in the back pocket of his jeans.</p>
<p>Eagerly, trying his hardest not to drop it, Molly tore it open and-<br/>
“FUCK!”</p>
<p>Empty. </p>
<p>   Molly threw it onto the ground and frantically scrolled through the contacts in his phone. </p>
<p>It rang.</p>
<p>And rang.</p>
<p>“Pick up...” Molly begged. “Please... Babe please... Please...”</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>Mol let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.</p>
<p>“H-hey, babe.”</p>
<p>“Baby! Are you okay? It’s been ages! Baby? Babes? Talk to me?”</p>
<p>Mol sniffed.</p>
<p>“Can you come get me..?”</p>
<p>“Sure baby.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   The rust-bucket of a car screamed to a stop right on the curb and a young woman with long dark dreadlocks burst out.</p>
<p>“Baby?!”</p>
<p>Mol heard the voice but could only stomach a grunt in return. </p>
<p>The ground was comfy against his cheek. Wet, but then he was already wet. </p>
<p>“Baby?”</p>
<p>“mnngfff”</p>
<p>Hands. Hands on his chest, his face, in his hair.</p>
<p>“Baby you’re shaking...”</p>
<p>“need- mnggff”</p>
<p>“Baby?”</p>
<p>Her voice was close. Comfort washed over him. Soft lips pressed his.</p>
<p>“Need a- a- hit.”</p>
<p>“Okay baby, I got you. Come on, come home. We got gear. Come on, up.”</p>
<p>Slowly, with a lot of help, Mollymauk staggered to his feet and they clambered into the car. </p>
<p>   *</p>
<p>   Smoke.</p>
<p>Smoke and warm.</p>
<p>The living room was small and cosy, every couch overflowing with people. Shapes in the smoke. Laughing and chatter permeated the air over some game-show on the tv. </p>
<p>“Yo, Cree, kit him up for me?”<br/>
A voice Molly vaguely recognised came from stooped over the coffee table. </p>
<p>“Sure. Come on baby.” Cree tossed her dreads over her shoulder and knelt down in front of the chair she and Mol had been cuddled up in. Mol reached for his belt but his hands were shaking too much and Cree stopped him. </p>
<p>“No, baby, let me. I got you.”</p>
<p>He didn’t even have enough energy to say Thank You. </p>
<p>   Cree undid the buckle and helped Molly out of his jacket, freeing his left arm. </p>
<p>He felt the familiar pressure tugging at his skin, looking down at the leather tight around his bicep.</p>
<p>“I got you baby, just relax for me.”</p>
<p>Molly slid back deeper into the armchair, and then there it was; a beautiful sting in his veins. </p>
<p>Bliss</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he was falling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cree was whispering beautiful words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Molly was floating and falling and floating again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Colours</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Molly had always seen colours so much brighter than anyone else. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Too bright.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes it hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he was young, Mollymauk sat watching them instead of doing anything else. School, dinner, talking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The world was just so damn bright. He wanted to drink it all in, become engulfed in it. All the colours, all the sights. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had always been like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The colours dimmed as he grew older. They almost vanished completely when he had believed Lucien dead. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The drugs was all that brought them back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For two years Mollymauk got high and bathed himself in the brightness. Numbing the hurt, the half of his heart that was missing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Colours surrounded him now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A thousand times brighter than normal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They flooded his mind and his eyes. They were everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re okay baby...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cree.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Molly needed her. He ached he needed her so badly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chapped lips caught his and Mollymauk drifted into dreams.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “Ladies and Gentlemen! The Fletchling and Moondrop Carnival proudly presents to you- the Flying Peacocks!”</p>
<p>Gold glitter filled the air.</p>
<p>Lucien squeezed Molly’s hand.</p>
<p>“Ready?”</p>
<p>“Always.”</p>
<p>With a wink, Molly slid off the platform and down the silks. </p>
<p>Crowds were cheering.</p>
<p>Lucien came next and they spun and they weaved and they flipped over and over. </p>
<p>They soared above the sea of faces. Sometimes on silk, sometimes rope, hoop or straps. </p>
<p>The Flying Peacocks did it all.</p>
<p>Together.</p>
<p>Mollymauk never dropped his brother.</p>
<p>Not once.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Baby?”</p>
<p>Smoke.</p>
<p>Smoke and noise.</p>
<p>“Baby? You back with us?”</p>
<p>‘No...’<br/>
Mol tried to say.</p>
<p>‘I don’t wanna come back.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Walking.</p>
<p>One bare foot in front of the other. </p>
<p>Cold.</p>
<p>Where was he?</p>
<p>Need warm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Up you get. Come on.”</p>
<p>“Noooo...”</p>
<p>“Yes. You bloody idiot, come on.”</p>
<p>“Shhhh sleepin.”</p>
<p>“Molly for fucks sake, get up!”</p>
<p>“Yash?”</p>
<p>   Mol opened his eyes. </p>
<p>“Who else would it fucking be? Now get up, you stink.”</p>
<p>Molly rose to his feet, shivering.</p>
<p>He did smell. What was that?</p>
<p>There was rusted metal under his hands.</p>
<p>Clang.</p>
<p>Strong arms hooked around Molly and eased him out of the dumpster.</p>
<p>He landed on the pavement hard and winced. </p>
<p>“Sore?”</p>
<p>“Yuh...”</p>
<p>“Not surprised.”</p>
<p>Yasha never was anymore.</p>
<p>She shoved a hoodie into his hands and began to walk.</p>
<p>“Wait for me.”</p>
<p>Mol shoved his arms into the sleeves and darted to keep up with her.</p>
<p>“Yash, wai-owww!”</p>
<p>The woman barely slowed her step. </p>
<p>“Yash? Where we goin?”</p>
<p>“I’m going home, Mollymauk. You can go wherever you want.”</p>
<p>“What? You- you mean you ain’t gonna..?”</p>
<p>“Going to what, Molly? Comfort you? Patch you up? Tell you it’ll all be okay and nothing’s your fault? Like I ALWAYS do? No. I found you, I made sure you’re alive. That’s all I’m doing.”</p>
<p>“Yash! Is not like I been gone long-”</p>
<p>“THREE DAYS, MOLLY!” Yasha spun around and looked as though so could punch him.</p>
<p>“You’ve been missing for THREE DAYS! Peacock is going crazy! He and Caleb have been out looking for-”</p>
<p>“Caleb?! He’s with Caleb?! I fuckin KNEW IT! Fucks sake.”</p>
<p>“You flirted with him one time at a gig, Mol. Get over it.”</p>
<p>“It weren’t one time! We was talkin’ for months! We... We... Did we..?”</p>
<p>Yasha shook her head.</p>
<p>“You were off your tits on coke, Mol. You hit on the guy for half an hour then we went back on for our second set. He met Lucien the next week and they went on a date. They’re dating. Don't you think he deserves this? To have someone to make him happy? After all the shit you put him through.”</p>
<p>“I...”</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>Then she was walking away again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> “But...”</p>
<p>Mol mumbled to himself.</p>
<p>“But that’s not right... I don’... We...”</p>
<p>But the more he thought, the more he found he couldn’t remember.</p>
<p>      ***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “Luc..?”</p>
<p>Mol knocked on his brother’s bedroom door.</p>
<p>“It’s five in the morning...”</p>
<p>Lucien’s voice trickled out from the other side of the door.</p>
<p>“I know, sorry. Jus, I gotta show you summat.”</p>
<p>“Later.”</p>
<p>“It gotta be now. Please?”</p>
<p>“Mol, what could possibly be so damn important?”</p>
<p>“Jus, come?”</p>
<p>Lucien didn’t answer, but Molly heard the creaking of bedsprings and a mumbled apology. As his twin opened the door and stepped into the hall, Mol caught a glimpse of red hair under the blankets.</p>
<p>“Alright, what’s going on?”<br/>
Lucien wrapped a thick dressingown round himself, giving Mol a stern look. </p>
<p>“Jus’ come.”</p>
<p>Mol grabbed his twins hand and dragged him to the stairs.</p>
<p>“Mol, the elevator-"</p>
<p>“This way’s more fun. C’mon!”</p>
<p>Mol hurried up the steps and Luc ran with him, demanding answers all the way until they crashed through the doors onto the roof.</p>
<p>“Molly!” Lucien tugged his hand out of his brothers and stood shivering, looking around.<br/>
“What the fuck are we doing up here? It’s freezing.”</p>
<p>Mol didn’t say anything. He moved over to the edge and sat down, dangling one foot over the side.</p>
<p>“Molly?”</p>
<p>“Come sit with me?”</p>
<p>“Molly.”</p>
<p>“Please, Luc? Please?”</p>
<p>The younger twin sighed and sat down next to his brother.</p>
<p>They stayed there in silence for a long time, looking over the dark city strewn with street lamps. </p>
<p>“There.”</p>
<p>Molly said softly, pointing.</p>
<p>Following his gaze, Lucien saw the first rays of the sun glistening over the water.</p>
<p>Then Molly was rummaging in his pockets.</p>
<p>He pulled out two cigarettes and lit up, handing one to Lucien, who accepted and took a drag.</p>
<p>Neither spoke, they just sat and watched the sun rise over Nicodranas. </p>
<p>By the time they had finished their smokes, it was well and truly morning.</p>
<p>Lucien got up and squeezed Molly’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Look, this was... Nice. But I have a million things to sort out today. I better go.”</p>
<p>Mol nodded, turning to kiss his brothers wrist.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah arright. Get goin’ then.”</p>
<p>“We should have a drink soon, okay? This really was nice, Mol.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’d like that.”</p>
<p>“See you soon then.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>Then Lucien headed back downstairs. </p>
<p>Mollymauk sat back on his hands and watched a motorbike weave through the streets below.</p>
<p>“Happy Birthday Brother.”<br/>
He whispered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Feathers and Fate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Long time no see, Mollymauk”<br/>Mol swallowed.<br/>“She... She...”<br/>“Of course.” Vax knew. He always knew. Somehow, he always knew Molly inside and out.<br/>“Come.”<br/>Mol could not move.<br/>“Come”<br/>When had he taken the gloves off? A hand with dark nail polish was reaching, offering Mol something he could not place.<br/>“She will be kind.”<br/>Gods, his voice hit Mol somewhere deep in his navel. <br/>The outstretched hand hung in the air between the pair. Mol took it. Vax was... warm... and cold.</p>
<p> **Mollymauk's debt comes due**</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Five- Feathers and Fate</p>
<p>   It was the longest traffic light Mol had ever seen. There must be something wrong with it, he was certain. Deep in the heart of Nicodranas city centre, he sat on his bike, revving impatiently as the red stayed solemnly, wholly uncaringly RED.</p>
<p>Feathers drifted into his view.<br/>The blackest feathers and razor sharp beaks. Fluttering beside him.</p>
<p>The white bike pulled to a stop on the line, as if the two were contestants in a race. Though Mollymauk knew he could never hope to win.</p>
<p>   He felt the grey eyes upon his face. Something swirled up inside him. It was like an unknown emotion, or pang. Mol could not place it. He knew it, he had felt it before. Only ever in the presence of two people, and he could never understand what it was he felt. It was neither joy nor pain. It was not hunger or thirst. It was not rapid, it did not make his heart pound or his head ache. He could feel his pulse thudding in his chest, but it was calm. He was not afraid. It was not fear.<br/>Still, it took over his body and crushed him until he could not think any more.</p>
<p>Numbly, he nodded, staring at the road beneath him. The rider beside him understood</p>
<p>   Green.</p>
<p>Mol fell into place, riding along behind the white bike. The city fell away as they went. Buildings and streets became nothingness. The colours flooded into his vision. Mol blinked them back but there they stayed. All he could make out was the pale bike. White in a sea of messy colour. </p>
<p>*<br/>   It was over an hour before they pulled up around the side of a long thin building, standing in dark brick with a low roof bowed over the highest windows.</p>
<p>   Everything in Mol’s brain was ravaged by colours. He stood, watching, waiting. Long black hair fell in a loose braid down Vax’s back as he swept the helmet off his head.</p>
<p>“Long time no see, Mollymauk”</p>
<p>Mol swallowed.<br/>“She... She...”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Vax knew. He always knew. Somehow, he always knew Molly inside and out.</p>
<p>“Come.”</p>
<p>Mol could not move.</p>
<p>“Come”</p>
<p>When had he taken the gloves off? A hand with dark nail polish was reaching, offering Mol something he could not place.</p>
<p>“She will be kind.”</p>
<p>Gods, his voice hit Mol somewhere deep in his navel. </p>
<p>The outstretched hand hung in the air between the pair. Mol took it. Vax was... warm... and cold.</p>
<p>   He allowed himself to be lead slowly across the gravel around to the front doors. Silver lettering caught the late afternoon sun. <br/>‘Raven Funeral Directors.’ The name sat nestled in feathers.</p>
<p>   She was in there.</p>
<p>   A red rug greeted them, thick cool wool under his toes. He scrunched into it as he walked, desperate for something he knew he enjoyed. Everything else in this place brought only questions and confusion. Soft fuzz, though small, brought him a twinge of ease.</p>
<p>The funeral directors had only one story from the outside. Unimposing, it sat at the end of the quiet street, waiting for the mourners to come. Each window was tall, filled with images of suns and moons in the stained glass. On his first visit, Mol had thought them terrifying. Like a chant repeating over and over reminding him that with each dawn comes an end, a darkness snuffing out the light.<br/>Now, as he walked their silent halls, he saw their truth. Everything had to end. There was no reasoning with it, no excuses. It just was. Death was a certainty. The one true destiny anyone could be sure of. Perhaps it would have comforted him if he were not drowning in white noise. His head spilled over with it. The colours dimmed around him, dancing their lights as though through a veil he could not bat aside. </p>
<p>   They passed through a display room. Mol found his eyes drawn to a coffin near the front, resplendent in deep blue satin sheets, obsidian wood. If he had any say in it, he would like to be shoved into the ground to rot away in that.</p>
<p>   A small group were being shown another model by a tall woman with a pale face and red lips. Vax nodded as he took Mol past. The woman running through her notes inclined her head to the pair but said nothing. </p>
<p>   Through a door labelled ‘Staff Only,’ they began to wind their way down a spiralling staircase into the hidden levels. </p>
<p>   The scent of strong chemicals caught in Mol’s throat as their feet touched down on the new floor. Vax walked on without a word, his hand still cool in Molly’s. A door stood ajar. They continued on and Mol turned to stare inside. The smell was strongest there. Two women in red aprons were moving around a body, laid out beautifully on their table. Something jolted in Mollymauk’s throat as he looked at the tubes sticking out of veins. Crimson collecting in them, droplets oozing. </p>
<p>   His empty hand scratched and clawed at the skin in his elbows, reawakening old scars. He had not used in a couple of days. Gods, ne needed it. Something bit at him, roaring that he could be laid out on that table too. He could take the corpses place.</p>
<p>*It could be me...*</p>
<p> But whether this thought was a want or a fear, he could not tell.</p>
<p>   “Mollymauk.”<br/>Vax spoke his name like a sonnet, and Mol heard him at once.</p>
<p>“That is not the way.”</p>
<p>Did he know? Somehow? Did Mol speak aloud without realising?</p>
<p>The hand gently pulled him away from the door, entwining their fingers. Perhaps to keep a closer eye on him, perhaps a gesture of kindness. Mol neither knew nor cared. </p>
<p>   Another door loomed, the end of the hallway. White wood. Iron handles. Something comforting crept out from underneath it in waves. Mol wanted to know what it was.</p>
<p>Vax opened it, and brought Mol inside. </p>
<p>   The room was almost perfectly round. Carved shelves sat perfectly along the walls, a long desk at one end by a tall lamp, and in the centre was a bath. It looked as though it were carved from one tremendous chunk of crystal. Mol stared and stared, only noticing the body inside it after a long minute.</p>
<p>He blinked. </p>
<p>The body was of a young man. No older than he was. As Mol stepped closer, Vax’s hand fell away.</p>
<p>The dead man was thin. Like Mol. He had so many scars, the skin not littered with them was covered in tattoos. He looked peaceful, but as red eyes travelled up the mans torso, Mol realised he must have died horribly. The tear through his chest was long, and although it had been cleaned and expertly sewn up, the mask was not enough to hide it. Mol gulped.</p>
<p>“Shit...”</p>
<p>His first word to the Queen in years. </p>
<p>   She stood at the mans head, caressing ointment through his hair. Her fingers worked so tenderly, it looked to Mol like such an act of love. Devotion, even. Perhaps this was mothers. <br/>Mol wished he were the one in her hands.</p>
<p>   “A year, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”</p>
<p>Her words were firm but her voice was like a lullaby.</p>
<p>“I...”</p>
<p>“For a year, I have allowed you to stray.” His Lady massaged the mans skull and Mol could almost feel her hands on his own skin.</p>
<p>“We held you through grief and I released you into joy. But you still owe.”</p>
<p>“I... know... My Lady”</p>
<p>   A noise behind him caught Mol’s ears and he began to turn, but in a sudden rush of cold air the woman was standing before him cupping his chin and holding him in her gaze. </p>
<p>“Do you?” She was asking as though she already suspected the answer. “Do you know how much you owe, Mollymauk? I acted for you, I saved him.  You made me a promise.”</p>
<p>“I...”</p>
<p>Her eyes were the palest blue.</p>
<p>“I... didn’t mean to... I want to...”</p>
<p>“From now on, you shall have a permanent reminder.”</p>
<p>The noise behind him came to a halt, and Mol was pushed backwards. For a brief moment he was falling, falling, falling as though he hung suspended in the air. But then his back hit something softer than he would have expected. Cushion. A chair. </p>
<p>   The Queen sat straddled on top of him, and in that moment Mol knew he would do anything she asked. She held his wrists and out of the corner of his eyes, Mol saw flecks of gold. <br/>Vax held the ropes, and he tied them tight, binding Mol to the chair.</p>
<p>“Wh...?”</p>
<p>“If you fight, I shall release you from your debt.” Ruby lips purred against his earlobe. “And your brother along with you.”</p>
<p>“No!” Mol gripped the chair but made no move to struggle.</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>She was still sat on him. Mol hated himself for the creeping warmth she spread through him. He dragged chipped nails over the arms of the chair.</p>
<p>“Vax’ildan.”</p>
<p>On her command, Mol felt familiar hands on his throat. For one wild moment he thought Vax was about to suffocate him, but they only turned his face away, exposing the left side of his neck.</p>
<p>Then came a buzzing, a draw of ink, and a scrape through his flesh.</p>
<p>Mol winced and cried out.</p>
<p>“Hush now.”<br/>Her whisper pressed into his mouth as she kissed him. And Mol fell into a dream of colours.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   Mol hazed in and out of the room. He felt her lips as though they never broke apart. He felt Vax as though he never left his side. He hurt. He wept.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   “Mollymauk.”</p>
<p>She was calling him out of the fire.</p>
<p>“Mollymauk.”</p>
<p>Could he not just lie here and forget it all?</p>
<p>“Mollymauk.”</p>
<p>   Crimson eyes blinked open. He was no longer tied to the chair. He was in a new room. The walls were ivory. The floor was cherry red. Like her mouth. The bed was black silk.</p>
<p>   Vax lay beside him, hair unbraided lying scattered all across the pillows. He wore his long robes, the ones Mol had first seen him in when they had met nearly three years ago. <br/>On Mol’s other side, laid his Lady. Their lady. She too now wore the dark robes. And even in such a relaxed state she was beautiful. </p>
<p>“Welcome back.”<br/>She meant to consciousness. But she also did not.</p>
<p>Mol felt her mouth on his once more, then she leaned across to take Vax in her arms as well. </p>
<p>“Stay with him until he is ready to leave.”<br/>Her last instruction to her successor, before she left the bed chamber.</p>
<p>   Mol reached for Vax and felt the mans hands glide under his shirt to hold him closer.</p>
<p>“You will not disobey her, will you?” He was imploring into Mol’s embrace.</p>
<p>“No. I will do as she asks.” Mol promised.</p>
<p>“She will not ask much.” Vax was now buried in Mol’s chest. “The odd job here and there. Then, when you are ready, you will take your place here with us.”</p>
<p>Mol nodded. He knew the deal. </p>
<p>“How is your brother?”</p>
<p>Mol nudged black hair off his face and slipped his hand into Vax’s again.</p>
<p>“It worked, yes? He came round?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“I am glad.”</p>
<p>Mol remembered his own relief, discovering that all he had done had worked. It had been a gamble; even his Lady had told him that. She was an experimentalist, not a miracle worker.<br/>But to Mollymauk she was a goddess.</p>
<p>“I have to go.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“I will come back.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   They were walking back up through the corridors. The reception desk stood deserted. It was dark outside the windows. It was so late.</p>
<p>Vax tugged at Mol’s hand.<br/>At once, Mol was enveloped in strong lean arms, pressing him back, back into the wall until his head span through the colours and the light and the dark. </p>
<p>“Soon.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah soon. I promise.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   As Mol drove away, he felt that sensation niggle at him again. A feeling, but one he could not place within him. It was not anywhere on the spectrum of emotions he knew. But he only felt it around two people. </p>
<p>Vax’ildan. And Lady Letherna. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   When he arrived back at the casino, Mol padded through into the ensuite and stared down his reflection.</p>
<p>There it was.</p>
<p>A permanent reminder. </p>
<p>Etched into his skin by Vax’s hand.</p>
<p>A raven sat on his neck, almost perfectly parallel with the peacock feathers.</p>
<p>He would never run from her again.<br/>He owed her everything.<br/>He owed her Lucien’s life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Faith and Trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Let me see your arms.”</p>
<p>“Luc, fucks sake.”</p>
<p>“You say you’re not high, prove it.”</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ FINE.”<br/>Mol held out his arms.</p>
<p>Lucien spent a long time examining them, crimson eyes roaming over scars old and new, checking every bump and bruise. But eventually he seemed satisfied.<br/>  “Alright. I believe you, Mol.”</p>
<p>Mollymauk didn’t respond. </p>
<p>“So, are you good to take this Hit then? Should be a simple job. They guy’s hanging around a local bar. The usual rules, the usual pay. Cash after the job’s done. No mess. No leftovers.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah I know how to do a bloody hit, Luc.”</p>
<p>(In which old faces reappear, and new flames set sparks flying...)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An Alternative Universe Mafia setting, featuring characters from Critical Role campaigns 1 &amp; 2.</p>
<p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Six- Faith and Trust</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Mol was wearing a scarf. He found it in a thrift store after getting up super crazy early and sneaking into town.</p>
<p>It was pretty nice, all things considered; a rich plum colour with gold stripes in fine thread. Really, it did not look out of place in his ensemble.</p>
<p>   He sat in the bar waiting for Luc, keeping the fabric closely around his throat.</p>
<p>“You’re up early.” His twin appeared at Mol’s elbow. “Or did you just not make it to bed? You weren’t in when I came up.”</p>
<p> Mol raised a confused eyebrow.</p>
<p>“You keepin’ tabs on me?”</p>
<p>“A necessary precaution, sometimes.”</p>
<p>Luc was just concerned, right? Concern was nice. He shouldn’t be mad about it.</p>
<p>He should leave it, let it go, ignore it-</p>
<p>“Why? You think I can’t take care of my damn self?”</p>
<p>Lucien waved the bartender away as he approached, and fixed his twin with a stern look.</p>
<p>“Where were you last night?”</p>
<p>“Why d’you care?”</p>
<p> “Because if you are high off your ass you can’t be working today.”</p>
<p>“I’m not.”</p>
<p>“Look me in the eyes and say that again.”</p>
<p>“What’s with you?”</p>
<p>“None of my employees are permitted to work under the influence, Mol. It’s not some crusade against you.”</p>
<p>“Good thing I ain’t workin in a customer facin’ role then ain’t it.”</p>
<p>“You are not taking this seriously.”</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>“Mollymauk.”</p>
<p>“Lucien.”</p>
<p>  There was a brief pause.</p>
<p> “Fine. You won’t tell me. That’s fine. Go away and do something else, I don’t need this today.”</p>
<p>“What?!”</p>
<p>“Well, I can’t trust you on a hit right now, Mol. You don’t want to tell me where you were, fine. But I have a business to run, I have paying clients with jobs that need doing. I cannot let them down because you are, as ever, an unreliable mess.”</p>
<p>   Mol stood up,</p>
<p>“Screw off.”</p>
<p>  Lucien stood up also. He took Mol by the elbow and marched him around the bar and into the stockroom. A long narrow room, lined with floor to ceiling shelves. It smelt of booze and cherries.</p>
<p>“Jeez, wha’s your problem?!”</p>
<p>Luc ran a hand through his hair and stood staring at Mol.</p>
<p>“You. You are my constant problem, Mol. I cannot keep doing this. It is beyond frustrating, and it is hell on Yasha-”</p>
<p>“What? Why?”</p>
<p>“Oh you cannot be so blind! Surely? She is worried sick any time you disappear. Spends half her life searching for you, pulling you out of dumpsters. You are a-”</p>
<p>Mol had picked up a jar and was sniffing the contents.</p>
<p>   “Constant problem. I knoooowww.”</p>
<p>“But you don’t know, Mol, that’s the point!”</p>
<p>A flush was creeping up Luc’s neck, tingeing the tips of his ears.<br/>“You don’t know and the worst part is, you don’t care enough to even think for one minute that maybe –just maybe- while you’re off injecting yourself full of shit and falling off the face of the earth, there are people who care about you who are out here looking for you, panicking and terrified about where you are and what state you’re in!”</p>
<p>   The younger Tealeaf twin took a long slow breath, allowing the older one to set the pickle jar down and fold his arms.</p>
<p>“You’re worryin’ about bugger-all, Luc.” He said cooly. “I been on the stuff for yonks, I know what I can handle. I know where-”</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare claim to know where your limits are. Not after last Christmas.”</p>
<p>“Last Christmas was-”</p>
<p>“A disaster on monumental levels.”</p>
<p>“I was gonna say ‘fun,’ but sure...”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding? Mol, tell me you’re kidding!”</p>
<p>Mol shrugged.</p>
<p>Luc looked as though he was at a loss for words.</p>
<p>Mol made the most of this opportunity.</p>
<p> “What? Casino was closed, me you Yash an’ Caleb all hung out downstairs. Gave presents, ate a shit tonne of food, got shitfaced and partied all night. Wha’s the problem?”</p>
<p>  Lucien smacked Mol hard across the face.<br/>“You fucking prick.”</p>
<p>“Whaaatt?!” Mol reeled, catching himself on one of the towering shelves before he hit the floor.</p>
<p>“You ruined it, Mol! You fucked it all up and were too fucking high to notice! I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you don’t remember. I can’t believe you think that was a fun Christmas. I just...”</p>
<p>He began to walk away.</p>
<p>“Luc...”<br/>Mol moved to grab his brother.</p>
<p>“Luc, I’m sorry! I really am. I didn’t know, alright? I really thought we all had fun... It was a happy memory for me.”</p>
<p>“Lucky you.”</p>
<p>Luc yanked his arm out of Mol’s grip.<br/>“I have to go and find someone else for this hit today. Go find something to do.”</p>
<p>“No, Luc, I can work. I ain’t high. I didn’ take nothing.”</p>
<p>“Then where were you?”</p>
<p>  Mol chewed his lip.<br/>“I was... with a friend.”</p>
<p>“Cree?”</p>
<p>“No, someone else.”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“You don’t know them.”</p>
<p>“That’s not reassuring.”</p>
<p>“Luc... Look, he ain’t a dealer. He’s a friend. Old friend. Helped me out when you was...”<br/>Mol fell silent. He did not like talking about that year. The year he’d been lost and more alone than he ever knew anyone could be.</p>
<p>“He kept me sane, aright? I didn’ shoot up, I didn’ even have a fag. Nothin’ like that. I jus...”<br/>He had to give Lucien something. He could fix this. He could work this out and repair some of the damage.</p>
<p>“I got new ink. That’s where I was. Spent hours drawin’ out the design with the artist an’ then got it done. Went out for a drink with my friend after an’ came in late. There. Aright?”</p>
<p> Luc looked as though he was trying very hard to convince himself to believe Mol.<br/>“Can I see it?”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>Mol unwound the scarf and turned on the spot, letting Luc see the bird sat black and sore on his skin.</p>
<p>“Shit, Mol, that’s...”</p>
<p>Luc trailed off as he looked closer at Mol’s neck.<br/>“...why did you have it there?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Not got much space left.” Mol reasoned.</p>
<p>“You have enough space for this, Gods Mol. You could have put it on your legs or your back... This is so... It looks like you’d been branded.”</p>
<p>“Well fuck, it ain’t your body is it.”</p>
<p>Mol snapped. He shoved the scarf back around him and pulled it up to his mouth.</p>
<p>“No. No it is your body to do whatever you want with.”</p>
<p>“Right then.”</p>
<p>“Let me see your arms.”</p>
<p>“Luc, fucks sake.”</p>
<p>“You say you’re not high, prove it.”</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ FINE.”<br/>Mol held out his arms.</p>
<p>Lucien spent a long time examining them, crimson eyes roaming over scars old and new, checking every bump and bruise. But eventually he seemed satisfied.</p>
<p>  “Alright. I believe you, Mol.”</p>
<p>Mollymauk didn’t respond. </p>
<p>“So, are you good to take this Hit then? Should be a simple job. They guy’s hanging around a local bar. The usual rules, the usual pay. Cash after the job’s done. No mess. No leftovers.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah I know how to do a bloody hit, Luc.”</p>
<p>“Alright then. I shall fetch you the guys information. See you out back. Ten minutes. And won’t you please put on some-”</p>
<p>“I ain’t wearin’ shoes, quit askin’ me.”</p>
<p>Luc threw his hands up in the air and exited the storeroom. </p>
<p>...</p>
<p>It really was a simple job. Mol had found the guy and done the deed within the hour. The cleanup wasn’t even that much. They were right by a construction site. Mol ditched the body and headed back to the casino.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>  “and that’s not to mention you, Luc! I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out about you. Perhaps nothing, maybe I’m being completely paranoid. I hope so... But-“</p>
<p>“He will never lay a finger on you, Tia, I promise you.”</p>
<p>  Mol screwed up his nose. Since when had His brother been giving Avantika pet names?!<br/>He stood just outside the office door, listening intently. The voices inside continued. </p>
<p>   “But I need you to be careful, Luc. For me, please? He’s a tidal wave no one see’s coming. He’s powerful, he’s dangerous. Uk’otoa does not care who he hurts, whoever gets in his way is dealt with however he sees fit.”</p>
<p> Mol heard Lucien scoff,</p>
<p>“I assure you I have every protection in place here. I am quite safe. And so are you. You can stay here if you like. Please?”</p>
<p> “You’re sweet, but I can take care of myself. I only wanted to warn you before he shows up anywhere. Thank you, Luc.”</p>
<p>   There came the unmistakable sound of two people kissing. Mol felt like throwing up.</p>
<p>   “Ah... Are you quite alright there, Molly?”</p>
<p>Caleb was walking slowly down the corridor towards Luciens office. His flare of ginger hair was scraped back into a messy ponytail, and he was carrying grocery bags. Mol caught the whiff of fresh bread and fish and his mouth began to water.</p>
<p>“You look a little pale. Is the new tattoo healing well?”<br/>There was real care in the brilliant blue eyes now staring intently at Mol as he stood in the hallway.</p>
<p>“Y...yeah, ish... I guess. I dunno. Been tryin not to think about it.”</p>
<p>Caleb was quite beautiful. Sure he was in a constant state of shabby-chic, and looked more homeless than Mol did half the time, but he looked comfortable all wrapped up in his brown sweater and scarf. <br/>Mol really wanted to hug him.</p>
<p>Mol really wanted to do a lot of things with Caleb, but it was all far too late for that. Caleb was beyond hope. Lost to Lucien, and since he’d begun living at the Casino full time, Mol knew there was nothing to be done. Ah well. Chalk it up to a bad job.</p>
<p>   But then-</p>
<p>“You gonna see Luc?”</p>
<p>Mol asked.</p>
<p>“I was going to, after I drop these off in our rooms.”</p>
<p>Caleb shifted the bags into one hand, and moved closer to Mol.</p>
<p>“Look, it may be, ah, none of my business, but you do not seem all to happy Molly. Why do you try not to think about the tattoo? Is it not what you wanted?”</p>
<p>Shit.</p>
<p>Caleb was far too bloody clever. That’s why he’d never have gone for Mol. Stupid and brainy just don’t mix.</p>
<p>“Did... Molly, did somebody give you that tattoo without consent?”</p>
<p>A heavily scarred hand had found Mol’s cheek.<br/>“If you do not wish to tell Lucien, that is your business, but please tell someone, Molly? Please? He is worried about you. I am worried about you.”</p>
<p>  Mol reached behind him and yanked on the door handle, shoving it open and stepping backwards into Luciens office.</p>
<p>   “Caleb!”</p>
<p>“Luc-“</p>
<p>“Mol?”</p>
<p>“Sup”</p>
<p>  Lucien and Avantika broke apart. Caleb stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the bags of food, the other still planted on Mol’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Can I get my money now?”</p>
<p>Mol demanded.</p>
<p>  But Lucien was not paying his brother any attention.</p>
<p>“Caleb-“</p>
<p>“Save it. You do not need to explain.” The hand fell away from Mol’s face, and he felt the comforting warmth go with it. “I shall, ah, go and get dinner started. Nice to see you again, Avantika.”</p>
<p> Lucien was hard to read in that moment, and Mol knew his brother well. Or, he thought he did.</p>
<p>Avantika was the first to speak.<br/>“Well, I’ll head off then. See you tomorrow, Luc.”</p>
<p>Without another word, and only the faintest trace of a sneer in Mol’s direction –although it could have been a smile, he couldn’t tell- she was gone. The twins stood in silence, crimson locked on crimson.</p>
<p>  “Did you do that on purpose?” Lucien asked.</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>“You fucking asshole.”</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>“No, I mean it, Mol. That’s fucking messed up.”</p>
<p>“What, like screwing some bitch while your boyfriend’s making dinner?”</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up, Mol!”</p>
<p>“Why? Why’d you do it, Luc? And to CALEB?! He’s a fucking sweetheart, a god damn saint and you’re cheating on him? And with THAT BITCH?!”</p>
<p>Lucien strode across the room and shoved Mol up against the door.</p>
<p>“You may be the oldest on paper, Mol, but you sure as hell do not get to dictate how I run my life. As if you know the first thing about being in a relationship!”</p>
<p>“I sure as shit know you ain’t meant to go shaggin’ other people behind your boyfriends back!”</p>
<p>Mol hated how weak he was. He used to be an even match for his brother but now...</p>
<p>“And do not even pretend that you know anything about Caleb!” Lucien went on, snarling into Mol’s face. “It’s over, Mol, he’s with me and you blew your shot. Accept that! And stop trying to sabotage the one good thing I have going for me!”</p>
<p> Mol was stung.</p>
<p>“You got ME!”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah? Then fucking proove it!”</p>
<p>“How?!”</p>
<p>“Sober up and get fucking responsible, Mol!”</p>
<p>“Fuck you!”</p>
<p>   The phone rang. A loud shrill noise cutting through their blaze where it sat on the desk.</p>
<p>Lucien released Mol and went to answer it.</p>
<p>“Lucien Tealeaf speaking.”</p>
<p>He listened, then sat down at his desk and began to take notes on a piece of paper.</p>
<p>“Yes of course, you have been well recommended.”</p>
<p>Another note.</p>
<p>Mol moved around the room, straining to get a peek. </p>
<p>“Absolutely, we can meet this week to go over the details. Is Thursday good for you?”</p>
<p> As Mol tilted his head, attempting to decipher the letters and words scrawled on the pad, one name jumped out and sent him reeling.</p>
<p>Lorenzo.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Deals and Deciet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Leave Luc alone.”<br/>Mol pushed himself away but Lorenzo held him tight.</p><p>“And why on earth would I do that?”</p><p>“Leave him ALONE!”</p><p>  A victorious smirk flashed across Lorenzo’s face.<br/>“Or what, little Molly? You’ll do something will you? You’re even weaker than the last time I saw you, and twice as pathetic.”</p><p>“I’ll kill you.”</p><p>The laugh that burst from Lorenzo’s lips was tampered with mocking mirth.<br/>“Oh, say that again, Molly, say that again! This is the best foreplay I have had in years!”</p><p>“COME NEAR MY BROTHER AND I’LL KILL YOU, FUCKIN’ BASTARD!”</p><p>(I got on a roll this week with a couple days off work so here, have two chapters in two days!)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An Alternative Universe Mafia setting, featuring characters from Critical Role campaigns 1 &amp; 2.</p><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.</p><p>TRIGGER WARNING/ CONTENT WARNING<br/>This chapter includes (not too explicit) reference to drug use, abuse and sex.<br/>TRIGGER WAARNING / CONTENT WARNING</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Seven – Deals and Deceit </p><p> </p><p>   Lucien finished his conversation and hung up the phone.<br/>
Mol stood stock still, petrified, unable to breathe.</p><p>His twin looked up at him.<br/>
“Right, that’s another thing I have to organise, so if you’re done for today you can take the cash and bugger off.”<br/>
Lucien blinked.<br/>
“Mol?”</p><p>  Mol tried to open his mouth. Perhaps he did, because Lucien was looking at him expectantly. But no sound escaped him.</p><p>“Look, just forget it okay? It’s done. My relationships are my business, so if we just leave it at that then we can get on with... Mol, what’s up?”</p><p>Lucien rose from his chair and approached his brother.<br/>
“Molly?”</p><p>“Who... Who... was that?”</p><p>Lucien frowned,<br/>
“A new client. He needs some runners for black market supplies out of Shadycreek. I have to to organise it all before our meeting on Thursday.”</p><p>Mol felt his fingers twitch, rippling in shivers and shakes all through his hands.<br/>
“His name’s Lorenzo?”</p><p>“Yes, although I would appreciate you not snooping on my notes. Look, Mol, what is the problem here?”</p><p>Mol bit his lip, his teeth chattered on the metal rings. </p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Lucien was already moving back to his desk.</p><p>“Please don’ meet him!”</p><p>It came out of Mol in a rush.</p><p>  His twin paused, mid-motion to drop back into his desk chair.<br/>
“You don’t want me to meet this client?”</p><p> “No. Please, Luc?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>The question was perfectly reasonable. But Mol recoiled like he had been punched.<br/>
“Just... Please?”</p><p>“Mol, I do not have time for this. Tell me why.”</p><p>“Because... because...”</p><p>“Because?”</p><p>“Because I know him, a’right?”</p><p>  Lucien raised an eyebrow,<br/>
“You know Lorenzo Oniron? How? Oh gods, do not tell me that you owe him money. I swear, Mollymauk, if you owe another dealer-“</p><p>“No no... Nothin’ like that. I jus’... I jus’... know him. An’ I know he’s bad. Real bad. Please, Luc, please don’ meet him.”</p><p> Mol felt the tell-tale tremble branch steadily up his arms and set into his toes as he stood there, fixing pleading red eyes on his brother.<br/>
Lucien saw it too. He was back around the desk in an instant, clutching at his twins hands and rubbing warm palms up and down Mol’s arms.</p><p>“Alright, alright, calm down. Mol? Mol, come here. Just, hush.”</p><p>Within seconds, Mollymauk was wrapped up in his brothers arms, hearing Lucien’s words flood into his brain. The usual routine when he got into this state.<br/>
“It’s alright. You’re alright. Just, stay here. You don’t need shit, Mol. You don’t need it. Whatever’s worrying you, I can handle it. I promise. Alright? Don’t let it, Mol. Please? You don’t need it. You don’t.”</p><p>  The shivers continued even after Mol’s heartbeat calmed down. He breathed slowly, trying to match Lucien’s shoulders as they rose and fell under his chin.<br/>
Lucien was trying to push him through, but this wasn’t just withdrawal anymore.</p><p>   “Luc, I’m fuckin’ frightened...” Mol spoke in the strange tangled language the twins had made up as children. Lucien did his best to respond. But he only carried some of it now. Mol had tried to teach him with limited success.</p><p>“Why, Mol? Why? It’s okay, it’s just cravings. You haven’t had anything right? Not since, what-?”</p><p>“Couple days ago...”</p><p>Lucien’s face brightened.</p><p>“That’s brilliant, Mol! Really. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, but you don’t need to be scared, okay? We can help. We’ll all help you. I know it sucks right now but you’ve gone this long, you can quit the shit. You can. I know you can, Mol. Please? I’m right here. It’ll be okay.”</p><p>“Please don’t see him...”</p><p>“Mol, I hardly think that’s-“</p><p>“You don’ understand!”</p><p>Mol couldn’t push Lucien away, he was quivering too much.<br/>
“He’s evil, Luc! He- he- he...”</p><p>“He what, Mol? What did Lorenzo do?”</p><p>          Kept me. Had me. Had me.</p><p>“Mol? Talk to me, please?”</p><p>“Just don’t see him...”</p><p>“Mol, I need this contract. He’s got connections everywhere in Shadycreek, if I get in with the Iron Shepherds then we’re laughing. I promise I will take every precaution possible. And I only plan on seeing<br/>
the guy for half an hour to discuss the specifics. After that, never again. Okay?”</p><p>“Did he... did he come to you?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Mol swallowed.<br/>
“Did he come lookin’ for you, or did you reach out to him?”</p><p>“Well, he instigated this arrangement, if that’s what you mean.”</p><p>Mol gripped Lucien’s arm.</p><p>“But I have had feelers out in Shadycreek for the best part of a year now, Mol. So I cannot say whether he found me of his own volition. Look, do not worry. I am more than capable of dealing with these people. I promise, everything will be alright.”</p><p>...</p><p>   Yasha was waiting for Molly when he emerged from Lucien’s office. How she had known to be there was a mystery to Mol, but in that moment he didn’t care. He ran to her and flung himself into her arms before the giant of a woman could even move away from the wall she had been leaning against.</p><p> “Yash I- Yash I’m sorry-“<br/>
The words were falling thick and fast, something in Mol was tearing at his throat. He realised far too late that he was soaking the collar of Yasha’s shirt, but she didn’t seem to mind. Strong arms picked Molly up and he hugged into her with all his might as she carried him down the hall to her own rooms. </p><p>   It was always clean and tidy in there. As she opened the door, a strong but sweet scent of flowers swirled up Mol’s nose.<br/>
He liked Yasha’s room a lot. It was one of the places he felt safe. Not so much as the Circus, but close.</p><p>  “Come and sit.”<br/>
She was ushering him onto the sofa like a timid puppy. Perhaps he was.</p><p> Mol sat huddled at one end, as Yasha threw a thick fleecy blanket over him and took a seat beside him.</p><p> “Look, Molly...”<br/>
She had that look on her face.<br/>
“I am not sure what to think right now. Lucien said that you are trying to get clean, is this true? I mean, I wish it were so, but I’m not stupid, Molly. We have been here before. Several times.”</p><p> Oh gods. Oh gods she was going to be so hurt. Mol hated disappointing Yasha. Above everyone else.</p><p>“I...” Mol hugged into the blanket, still shivering despite the warmth. “No... Yash. I... think I need a hit right now more than ever...”</p><p>The eyes that met his now were not surprised.</p><p>“I was tryin’ to stop Luc doin’ somethin’. Somethin’ dangerous. Stupid dangerous. Yash, I dunno what he might do!”</p><p>“So you lied?”</p><p>“What? No! No I never said I was gettin’ clean. He asked how long it’d been an’ I told him an-“</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>Mol shoved at the blanket, suddenly too warm. It hit him like a furnace and he sat forwards ready to dry heave over the arm of the sofa.<br/>
“Like... two days”</p><p>  As the strong hand found his spine, and began to massage comforting rings into his skin, Mol heard a note of gladness in his friends voice.</p><p>“Really? Mol, that... is actually good. You mean nothing? Nothing at all?”</p><p>“Y-yeah...”</p><p>Mol slumped over the arm, letting Yasha continue to work away the stress from his shoulders. She had damn near magic hands. He’d told her so many times before. Yasha was the only one who could stop his body from totally wigging out on him, whenever he was too broke or sick to get a hit.</p><p>  “But, Mol, you’ve started the process. Why not see it through? Get clean, get-“</p><p>“No, Yash that’s not important right now! Luc is in danger, real danger! He won’t listen to me!”</p><p>“A family trait, that. The Tealeaf twins inability to listen to reason.”</p><p>“Yash, I mean it.”</p><p>“Look, Mol, I’m sure you do. But Lucien is well versed in dealing with the worst of people. He can handle it. You should focus on looking after yourself now. That’s what Luc wants, what he needs. He needs<br/>
you. He needs his brother.”</p><p>  Why was nobody LISTENING?!</p><p>Mol pushed himself up and stood as steadily as he could on the fluffy throw rug beside Yasha’s bed.</p><p> “He’s GOT me!” He tugged at the scarf, pulling it closer to his throat. “I never fuckin’ went anywhere. I’m right fuckin’ here! An’ he won’t listen!”</p><p>“Molly...” Yasha was soft and calm. “Did you never think that the reason Luc doesn’t listen is because he doesn’t know how to trust you?”</p><p>Mol fell silent.</p><p>“You are not here. Not really. Not in ways that count. You are either doped up with Cree,”<br/>
Yasha said that name as though it were the word ‘dog shit,’“or you are lost somewhere out there, or worst of all- you are here but you are shaking and sick and withdrawing and wanting your next high. Mol, that’s not family. That’s not friendship. That... well, that is a burden.”</p><p> Mol glared at her. It stung to the pit of his stomach, turning to bile and venom in his mouth.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>“Molly...”</p><p>“No, fuck you! Fuck the lot of you!”</p><p>Mol turned and headed for the door.</p><p>“Molly, wait-“</p><p>“No! Fucking have each other! I’m such a fuckin’ burden then FINE!” Mol threw the bedroom door open with a bang. “Go join Caleb upstairs! Maybe if you screw him Luc will know how it feels! Or he’ll probably be too busy FUCKIN’ AVANTIKA to notice! You can all go to fuckin’ HELL!”</p><p>***</p><p>   He didn’t really mean it. Even as he blundered hazily down the corridor and down the staircase and down through the casino, he didn’t mean any of it.</p><p>*</p><p>    As he sat on the curb, fumbling to hit the right contact in his phone, Mol didn’t mean it.</p><p>*</p><p> When a familiar car pulled up and a worn pair of boots splashed towards him through a puddle, he didn’t mean it.</p><p>*</p><p>  While he lay back in a moth-eaten, battered old armchair in a house with boarded-up windows, Mol didn’t mean it.</p><p>*</p><p>  When Cree kissed the crook of his elbow, tugging the needle out and whispering ‘I Love You,’ he didn’t mean it.</p><p>***</p><p>   “I’m scared.”</p><p>“Why, baby?”</p><p>“Lorenzo’s back.”</p><p>“It’ll be okay baby.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Because we can fly.”</p><p>“Not without Luc.”</p><p>“Fly with me.”</p><p>“Not high enough.”</p><p>“You want more?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>***</p><p>   42 hours later, and it was dusk in Nicodranas. </p><p>Bare feet inked with roses trod the streets with a fresh determination. He had to find him. He had to get to him first. He had to. </p><p>***</p><p>   It didn’t take much. Stuffing cash into the hands of dealers he knew got Mol directed to another person who knew something, and so on until he found someone who knew a whole lot of something.<br/>
Lorenzo was working out of a warehouse down by the docks. Biggest one, lot CR2E26. Perfect.</p><p>   He didn’t have his bike so Mol walked. It gave him time to breathe, to plan. To get his head straight.</p><p>He would do anything to keep Lucien safe. Even this. Even going back.<br/>
Lorenzo must know. He must. He knew all about Luc. Had he come looking for him to screw with Mol? It must be some kind of message. He had to know they were together. What was he planning? </p><p>   The docks loomed into sight as Mol made his way through the streets towards the water. It shimmered and glistened in the sunset, almost beautiful. But the breeze swept up and Mol shivered again. This time, it was entirely out of fear.</p><p>*</p><p>  Quite alone, Mol shoulder-barged his way in through the warehouse back door.  </p><p>  Scratchy tecno music was playing through an old radio sat in the middle of the room surrounded by packing crates and boxes. Numerous worker bees shuffled around, checking stock, scribbling on clipboards, and bagging up items Mollymauk couldn’t see. He scanned the building for a sign of the man he loathed.</p><p>   There he was.<br/>
Taller than Molly by nearly a head, and built like a brick shithouse with large hands and feet, Lorenzo Oniron was screwing nails into a crate on the far side of the warehouse. His dark beard was longer than the last time Mol had seen him, and his bald head bore more tattoos, but the rest of him remained the same. Unchanged, uncaring, hulking and dangerous.</p><p>   “Lorenzo!”</p><p>The silence that followed Mol’s shout was deafening.</p><p>Cold eyes flicked up and a cracked smile formed on the mans lips. One hand raised, dismissing the others as Lorenzo put down his drill and walked slowly towards the scrawny man.<br/>
His workers scattered like mice, the music stopped, and suddenly it was just Mollymauk and Lorenzo on the warehouse floor. </p><p>  The goliath of a man stopped a few metres away.<br/>
Lorenzo beckoned, and Mol came to him. The ground was cold concrete, Mol wished he’d thought to bring a hoodie. He was cold in just his vest top and jeans.</p><p>   “Hello my little Molly.” The deep voice crooned. Hands shot out to grab at Molly’s arms, yanking him into Lorenzo’s space, caressing his face, his hair, his back. Mol shuddered.</p><p>“Why so nervous, Molly, hmm?” The voice came again, pressed right up to Mol’s ear. </p><p>“I always knew you would come crawling back to me again.”</p><p>Heavy hands lifted  Mols arms, wrapping around Lorenzo’s waist. Mol accepted it, hugging into the man and screwing his eyes shut.<br/>
“I knew going to your brother would get your attention.” </p><p>“You went looking for him?”</p><p>“I stumbled across his plea for a relationship with Shadycreek and thought to myself, this is too good an opportunity to miss. Both twins in one place, and one begging for my attention. Your brother has a<br/>
silver tongue, Molly, a shame that it is not a shared family trait.”</p><p>“Leave Luc alone.”</p><p>  Mol pushed himself away but Lorenzo held him tight.</p><p>“And why on earth would I do that?”</p><p>“Leave him ALONE!”</p><p>  A victorious smirk flashed across Lorenzo’s face.<br/>
“Or what, little Molly? You’ll do something will you? You’re even weaker than the last time I saw you, and twice as pathetic.”</p><p>“I’ll kill you.”</p><p>The laugh that burst from Lorenzo’s lips was tampered with mocking mirth. </p><p>“Oh, say that again, Molly, say that again! This is the best foreplay I have had in years!”</p><p>“COME NEAR MY BROTHER AND I’LL KILL YOU, FUCKIN’ BASTARD!”</p><p>   Lorenzo closed the remaining gap between their two bodies and seized the back of Mollymauk’s hair. Dragging Mol to him, he smashed their lips together and Mol choked as Lorenzo’s hot thick tongue<br/>
broke into his mouth. </p><p>“Favours, you’re wanting eh?” The voice breathed low against Molly’s lips. “Try harder, Mollymauk.”</p><p>   Mol felt himself drop to the ground under the weight of Lorenzo’s almighty shove. He hit the concrete on his hands and knees, looking up at the man above him who sneered,</p><p>“Only time you didn’t piss me off, when you was on your knees.”</p><p> Mol gulped.</p><p> “I’m waiting.”</p><p>“Fuck...”</p><p>Mol gritted his teeth to stop his hands from shaking as he reached up to unfasten Lorenzo’s ornate leather belt.</p><p>*</p><p>                  Rain lashed at the windows of the grubby little studio apartment. Thunder rolled and the sky was lit with slashes of lightning.<br/>
Mol was curled up on the bed, struggling to keep the flame of his last lighter steady under the spoon clutched in his other hand.<br/>
“That’s it.” Lorenzo sat down behind Mol and coiled his massive legs either side of the much smaller man. “That’s right, get it in you. All you’re good for isn’t it.”</p><p>**</p><p>   “Only thing that mouth’s good for.”<br/>
Lorenzo held onto the back of Mol’s head, winding forceful fingers into lavender curls and driving Molly on.</p><p>*</p><p>                  Another jet of lightning pierced the sky and Mol jumped.<br/>
“Scaredy cat.” Lorenzo held Molly like a vice clamping him there, as his hefty hands worked with Mollys to place the needle.<br/>
It bit into the skin of his elbow and Mol winced. Crimson eyes flickered closed as his head fell back into Lorenzo’s shoulder.<br/>
“Good boy.”<br/>
**

</p><p>“Good boy...”</p><p>Mol felt a lurch of bile as he gagged.</p><p>*</p><p>                   “Mhhmmnnkk...” The storm was still raging. Mol rolled over as the door slammed open.<br/>
“You awake? Good. I’ve had a shitter of a day, come cheer your boyfriend up.”<br/>
Obediently, Mol crawled over to where Lorenzo sat on the end of the bed.</p><p>**</p><p>   Back in the present day, Mol was coughing up bile on the warehouse floor. Lorenzo stood, buttoning up his pants.</p><p>  “You’ll stay away from Luc..” Mol gasped, clambering to his feet, wiping his mouth.</p><p> The monster shook back his head and laughed.<br/>
“I made you no promises, Molly. Now fuck off.”</p><p>“Wh... what? No, no! You-“</p><p>“Fuck. Off. Mollymauk.”</p><p>“NO! No, I’m not goin’ nowhere ‘til you give me your word-“</p><p>   The rush of a lurching beast slamming into him sent Mol’s back splintering into one of the crates. He screamed as Lorenzo seized him by the hair once more and roared,<br/>
“Right then! I will have your brother, Molly! I will have him and I will take him until he begs me to take you instead! I’ll break him in two and he will thank me for taking his useless junkie brother in his place! Now get the FUCK OUT OF MY WAREHOUSE!”</p><p>   He let go, and Mol ran.</p><p>He ran and ran into the darkening city, until Lorenzo’s laughter was far behind him. But still it rang in his ears.</p><p>He ran through the park and up a side ally behind the Lavish Chateau. </p><p>He ran until the world was a spinning daze of colour and noise and that laugh draining him of everything.</p><p>He ran across the street towards the casino, desperation peaking as he desperately tried to reach Lucien. He could not let this happen. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Then there was a great screeching of breaks and-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>SLAM</p><p>***</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Storm from the Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucien had always had a way of making everyone else in a room fall silent, just with a look. He barely even needed to move a muscle.<br/>Mol loved it. He sat opposite Cree, playing footsie under the long table and trying not to smirk, watching his brother hold court like a King. Mol was happy to be Prince. He barely understood half of what Lucien was on about, but it sounded exciting and big. </p><p>Night after night, the Tomb Takers gathered around the same table in the basement hidden deep under the ground and talked. Months passed and the foundations of a plan were falling into place. Lucien was going to bring changes. Huge changes. The city would never be the same again, he told them. They, his chosen few, would help him rise to power and topple all else. Wipe out the wicked and the false. Blow away the liars and the cheats. The rich would fall, the weak would grow strong. The corrupt would be destroyed and in the dust they would emerge victorious. And how Nicodranas would love them.<br/>Mol liked the plan for the explosives alone. They sat piled up around them now, all set and ready to be transported into place. Tonight they would act. Tonight they would detonate Luciens plan.</p><p> Tonight it all went wrong.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Eight. A Storm from the Sea.</p><p>*</p><p>   “Mol?! Mol?!”</p><p>*<br/>
*</p><p>“Wake him UP! WAKE HIM UP!”</p><p>*<br/>
*</p><p>“I don’t know, I don’t know! The bouncers came to get me and he was just... in the road and all these people were watching and an ambulance came and... and... and...”</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>“I don’t know what to do, Yasha. What do we do?”</p><p>*<br/>
*</p><p>   It was very warm, Mol thought. Rather cosy too. He wondered if he could stay here for a while. Rain was tapping gently against glass. Mol decided that he must be in Yasha’s bedroom. Her big window ran right next to her bed, with a view out over Nicodranas all the way down to the beach. Yeah. That must be where he was.</p><p> As if on cue, Mol heard Yasha’s voice. She spoke in a soft whisper and Mol realised with a jolt that Lucien was there too.</p><p>   “You should go home, get some proper rest.”</p><p>“I can’t leave him.”</p><p>“Luc, Mol wouldn’t want you to wear yourself out.”</p><p>“It’s what he’d do for me.”</p><p>   Yasha had no response for that. She sighed instead, and Mol heard shuffling as the tall woman got to her feet.<br/>
His eyelids were so heavy. He tried to open them.</p><p>   “There’ll be a storm soon.” She was by the window. Mol heard knuckles rap gently on the glass. “Look, I can already see the lightning.”</p><p>“Unusual for this time of year though.”</p><p>“Yes. But storms are signs of great change. They can bring new life, new options and clearer paths.”</p><p>“Trust you to make something meaningful out of a bit of rain.”</p><p>“That’s what Molly said too the first time I told him. And the second time. He didn’t remember the first.”</p><p>“Yash... Do you think he’ll remember this? Remember why? I want to ask him.”</p><p>“Ask me wha..?”</p><p>“Mol!”</p><p>“Goodness, Molly!”</p><p>   Crimson stared blearily up at them both as two blurry faces appeared in Mollymauk’s vision.<br/>
Lucien looked terrible. His usually crisp shirt was crumpled and looked days old. His hair wasn’t washed and he had dark circles under his eyes. Hands gripped Molly’s over the blankets and the younger Tealeaf twin sniffed hard.</p><p> “Mol. Fuck, Mol! Fuck!”</p><p>“s’okay. Luc, Jeez, I’m a’rright.”</p><p>“Gods, Molly!”<br/>
Lucien fell into Mol’s arms, hugging his brother so tight it made something dig into Mol’s skin. He ignored it in favour of pulling his twin in closer.</p><p>“Luc, it’s okay. Everythin’s fi-“</p><p>“I know, I know. I know.”</p><p>Lucien was spluttering somewhere near Mollymauk’s shoulder.<br/>
“Gods, Mol, you were so Lucky! I’m so fucking lucky...”</p><p>“Why?” Mol asked, puzzled.</p><p>“You broke half your damn ribs, Mol!”</p><p>“4.” Yasha interjected, quietly. She was standing right beside the twins, taking no part in the sudden rush of tears and hugging but watching over them with all her might. “Molly, you have no idea... The car only just managed to stop and there was a truck-“</p><p>“Don’t!” Lucien groaned. “Even thinking makes me feel sick. Gods. Oh gods, Molly. Molly you were so so lucky. The bouncers told me the driver was pretty shaken up but he managed to swerve and you... You...”</p><p>“You bounced off the pavement a bit.” Yasha picked up the tale. “But all in all, it could have been much worse. Just, maybe no more gigs for a while. Your face is a little bruised. Your nose... see.”</p><p>“I’ve broke my nose before, Yash. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Mol, do you remember it?” Lucien asked, sitting up and as his hair cleared Mols vision, he blinked and the rest of the room swam into a clearer picture. It was definitely not Yasha’s room. It wasn’t even the casino. Not Cad’s either. </p><p>“Fuck! Fuck, this is hospital ain’t it!” Mol scrabbled backwards, dragging himself up the bed and staring down at his hands. Things were sticking out of the skin, taped down. Tubes ran up his arms into a machine beside the bed. Mol gagged.</p><p>“Wha’s that?”</p><p>“Proper drugs, Mol. Non-lethal ones.”</p><p>“I don’ like it. Feels funny.”</p><p>“Of course it does, Mol, you-“</p><p>“Get ‘em out.”</p><p>“We can’t, Mol, you need them for the pain.”</p><p>“I can sort my own pain meds out, fucks sake.”</p><p>“Boys, please don’t fight. Not now. Not today.” Yasha was firm, but the plea didn’t escape Mol’s ears.</p><p>“Fine.” For her they stopped. Only for Yasha.</p><p>“Thank you.” Lucien squeezed his hand. The tubes wobbled. Mol felt sick. “So, do you remember anything?”</p><p>Mol chewed his lip, realising that his rings were missing.<br/>
“Hey, where-“</p><p>“I’ve got them” Yasha patted her pocket. “You had to go in for scans and they needed to take out all the piercings. I do not envy the nurse who had to get the Prince Albert.”</p><p>Mol giggled.<br/>
“Serves ‘em right. Takin’ my shit.”</p><p>Two sighs met his words. </p><p>“Mol.” </p><p>Uhoh. Lucien had that serious voice on. “They tried to sedate you when they brought you in. Something for pain or for knocking you out or I don’t know. I was too damn scared to listen properly. But they had to stop ‘cause you were pumped up full of dope. They could’ve killed you, Mol! They had to get me to rattle off a damn list of every possible thing you could have taken. It was humiliating.”</p><p>“Sorry...”</p><p>“And they kept telling me that they’d have to take all these precautions, how you might react differently to what they usually tried and how they couldn’t operate until you were medicated properly. I was so scared you’d OD or something, Mol! Fuck how many times have you been close to that before?”</p><p>“I lost count.”</p><p>“Fuck, Mol! I was terrified! I thought I’d never see you again, I thought- I thought, fuck!”</p><p>“I’m sorry...”</p><p>“Then after all that, they had to take you away and I and I and... I...”</p><p>Mol sat up, wincing as tubes dragged through his skin, but reached determinedly for his brother.<br/>
“Luc?”</p><p>“Molly!”<br/>
Lucien moved into Mollymauk’s outstretched arms, and the twins held onto each other in silence.</p><p>*</p><p>“That took longer than expected.”</p><p>“Well, one meeting became two.”</p><p>“Two?”</p><p>Molly heard the suspicion in Yasha’s voice, but he was too out of it to concentrate. Lucien was there and that was good.</p><p>The door closed, and Molly realised why he had woken up. Lucien was coming in. Coming back. Where had he gone?</p><p>“Yes. I managed to set up a conversation with Uk’otoa. He runs an empire, it is a good connect-“</p><p>“Isn’t that the man Avantika had dealings with before?”</p><p>“Five years ago, Yash. And from what she told me, it was not just a business relationship they had.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>“Disgruntled ex-boyfriend with too much power. Who wouldn’t be wary? But look, how better to size the guy up? See exactly what we could be dealing with now he’s docked in Nicodranas? It just made sense.”</p><p>“Reckless.”</p><p>“Yasha.”</p><p>“Sometimes you two remind me exactly how alike twins can be.”</p><p>“Hey, I am not as reckless as Molly.”</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Reckless. The pair of you.”</p><p>***</p><p>  “I was coming to warn you.”</p><p>“What?” Lucien looked up from the email he was slowly reading through on his phone.</p><p>“When I got hit. I was coming to see you.” Molly rolled over in the bed, the metal frame squeaked unpleasantly. </p><p>Lucien looked surprised as he put the phone down and stared at his brother. All inquires had stopped in favour of light-hearted chat for the last few days. The twins were at an easy peace, and both seemed to be enjoying it so much that Lucien had not asked again. But Molly had thought about it deeply and knew he had to try.</p><p>  “Did you say, ‘warn’ me?”</p><p>“Yeah. About Lorenzo.”</p><p>“Oh, Molly. Not-“</p><p>“No, you gotta listen to me. He-“</p><p>“Molly, I have already had the meeting.”</p><p>“He’s gonna-“</p><p>“Molly.”</p><p>“I know he’s gonna-“</p><p>“Molly! I already had the meeting with Lorenzo!”</p><p>“You WHAT? When?”</p><p>“Yesterday. While you were in for those tests.”</p><p>“You didn’t tell me.”</p><p>“After how you reacted last time? Of course I didn’t.”</p><p>“But-“</p><p>“Look, Mol, it went fine. I took every precaution. I had a bouncer outside the office door, I had numerous weapons close at hand, Yasha was here just a phone call away. I was safe, Mol. I promise you.”</p><p>“Tha’s not the point...”</p><p>“It went well, Molly. I promise you. Nothing went down. He has agreed to work with me and now we have opened up an avenue with Shadycreek. It’s the best possible outcome. You don’t need to worry. Alright?”</p><p>“Luc... He scares me.”</p><p>   Lucien seemed to really take this in for a moment. Crimson met crimson and as so often happened these days, the younger Tealeaf twin looked much older. Mollymauk looked fearfully over at him like a terrified puppy, and Lucien was hurrying to his side without a seconds thought. </p><p>“Molly. Molly, it’s alright. I promise you. You don’t need to be scared. Molly...”</p><p> Maybe it would all be alright. Maybe Lorenzo had just been bluffing. Trying to frighten Molly. Well, it had worked like it always did. Maybe Lucien could outsmart him. He certainly couldn’t overpower the orc of a man, but if anyone could navigate through an agreement with Lorenzo it was Lucien. And he certainly was well guarded. Surrounded at all hours by bouncers and bodyguards and Yasha too.</p><p>Yes.<br/>
Mollymauk decided to try not to obsess over it. After all, look where it got him. He didn’t want to push his brother away again.</p><p>  “It’s been a week for good business arrangements, actually.” Lucien went on. </p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I’ve made two high-powered connections. The other one is a monumental player in this game. He runs a dating app, huge thing. Turns over millions each year. But underneath it he deals in all sorts. No one knows how much, but he has an easy foot in every market we could hope to breach. I mean it, anything you can think of- Uk’otoa can get it. Or get rid of it. It’s crazy.”</p><p>“You gonna ask him to get rid of me next time I piss you off then?” Mol asked with a grin.</p><p>“Fuck off. If I did no one would ever see you again. Your social security would be scrapped, all records gone. Everything would disappear, like you never existed.”</p><p>“So that’s a maybe?”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>  Molly laughed. Lucien did too. That made Molly happy.</p><p>*</p><p>“LUCIEN TEALEAF YOU ARE SO DEAD!”</p><p>“Ooooh, Luc you’re in trouble.”</p><p>The door to Mollys hospital room banged open.</p><p>Lucien leapt to his feet beside the bed. Cards tumbled to the floor, scattering the tower the twins had been building.</p><p>Molly plumped up his pillows, watching the chaos. It was nice not to be the one being yelled at for a change.</p><p>  Avantika stormed into the room, flaming red curls livid all around her. Enraged eyes found the younger twin and in two strides she had crossed the room and slapped him a strike bang on the jaw.</p><p>  Molly had to admit, he was impressed. But family loyalty would always win and he shouted,<br/>
“Oi!”</p><p>“Don’t you even start!” Avantika snapped, holding a finger up to Mollymauk without taking her eyes off Lucien.</p><p>“Tia, it all went fine-“</p><p>“That’s what you think!”</p><p>“I KNOW it all went fine, Tia. Truly.”</p><p>“He’s moored up right next to the Squall-Eater! I woke up this morning and he’s right there! Uk’otoa moved three spaces over in the middle of the night, just to make a point, Luc!”</p><p>“Sounds like a right prick.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mollymauk! Yes he is!”</p><p>Molly snorted. His brother pushed back.<br/>
“He was perfectly charming to me, Tia. Clearly power-hungry, obviously dangerous, but nothing special. Nothing I cannot h-“</p><p>“Y’know, this’ll be the second person this week you been warned not to mess with who you then went and met anyway, Luc.”</p><p>“You are not helping, Mol.”</p><p>“Not tryin’ to help. Tellin’ you how it is. You ignored me about Lorenzo. Now you’re ignorin’ this bitch about Uk’otoa too.”</p><p>Avantika poked Lucien hard in the shoulder with long painted nails.<br/>
“See?! Now you know something has to be very wrong when Mollymauk and I agree on something!”</p><p>The entire room paused.<br/>
Privately, they all seemed to know that she had a point.</p><p>  “It is done, anyway.” Lucien said cooly. “No point worrying about it now. We are in business together, and I shall keep a close eye on it. He even mentioned you, Tia.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Uk’otoa told me that he was hoping to reconnect with you. He said it’s been too long, and he’s proud of how far you’ve come since he last saw you. He said he always hoped you would ‘learn, grow and<br/>
be rewarded.’ He seemed to genuinely- Tia?!”</p><p>But Avantika had gone. </p><p>   Mol whistled from the bed.<br/>
“Damn you fucked up there, bro.”</p><p>“Molly…”<br/>
Lucien sat down heavily on the bed. Mol pulled up his knees to make more room, which his brother shifted into gratefully. </p><p>“Look, it ain’t none of my business, I got it. But… Luc, you’re fuckin’ up here. An’ you know it.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“You still with Caleb?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You still with her?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Caleb know?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So, that’s better then, I guess. How’s it workin’?”</p><p>“They are both well aware how… Noncommittal I am. They know what can be expected.”</p><p>“Noncommittal? Luc, you’re livin’ with him!”</p><p>“It’s more complicated than that, Molly.”</p><p>“Tell me then.”</p><p>“I just… I am not comfortable having pressure put on me. I do not like expectations like that. Of… way off futures, and rings and kids. Nothing like that. I can’t even remember my own life from more than a few years ago, how can I possibly make a life like… I don’t know. I just… They know that I cannot be like that.”</p><p>“Well… Long as you’re all happy I guess.”</p><p>“It works, for now.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Mol?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Thank you for opening the door the other day. It… Well, it prompted some long overdue conversations.”</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>“Cocky bastard.”</p><p>“Poncy prick.”</p><p>***</p><p>   [From: Baybee<br/>
‘hey babez, miss u. still in hospital? Fancy a visit? Love u]</p><p>*</p><p>  It had all worked out perfectly. Lucien had gone to another meeting with Uk’otoa. (One very loud phone call from Avantika had tipped Molly off before Lucien said anything.) Yasha had gone with him, at Molly’s request, to be a bodyguard. He had no tests scheduled, nothing at all except a quiet afternoon watching trash tv. Or so he’d told them. </p><p>   About an hour after the two of them left the hospital, Molly got a knock on his door, and a pair of hazel eyes peered into the room.</p><p>  “Coast clear?”</p><p>“Yeah, come in baybee.”</p><p>“Fucking hell you look like shit.”</p><p>“All for you, sexy.”</p><p>“For real, fucking hell babes.” Cree took up Lucien’s place, sat on the side of Molly’s bed. Her waist curved in a perfect arch as she leaned on one hand to look closer at his face.</p><p>“Broke your nose again didn’t you?”</p><p>“Yeah, and a bunch of ribs.”</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Feels ar’right now. Stitches come out next week then I can fuck off outta here.”</p><p>“You okay? Must be jonesing like mad.” </p><p>“You got no fuckin’ idea. They got me on some pain killer stuff but it’s weak as shit, can’t sleep properly unless they knock me out.”</p><p>“They do that often?”</p><p>“When I kick up a fuss, yeah. They don’t want me hurting myself or stressin’ so much I pull the stitches.”</p><p>“Clever fucker.”</p><p>“So you got somethin’ for me then?”</p><p>“Sure do.”</p><p>“Gimmie.”</p><p>“Look, though, right- I can’t exactly dose you up in here. They’d get super sus’ and I’d be in for it. But I got you pills, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah yeah, anything baybee. I fuckin’ love you.”</p><p>“Love you too, sexy idiot. Here”</p><p>   Something small and bright white balanced on the tip of her tongue. Cree leaned in and Molly kissed her. Her mouth tasted of smoke and sugar. Mollymauk lapped it up. He seized handfuls of her patchworked dress and pulled her up properly onto the bed with him. Cree was giggling onto his lips. </p><p>“Fuckin’ missed you.”</p><p>“Yeah, how much?”</p><p>“Fuck me.”</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>   *</p><p>   “GODS ON EARTH, MOLLY WHAT THE FUCK?!”</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>“Who the hell are you?”</p><p>“Lucien, it’s me you dumbass!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>  Cree slid off Molly, straightening her dress as he dragged his pajama pants back on.<br/>
“Jeez, Lucien, Mol said you were fucked in the head now but I didn’t think it’d be this bad. It’s me. Cree? Used to work together, used to call you ‘boss’ even. Tomb takers, underground runners? We were gonna change the world? No? Huh, fuck babes you were right.”</p><p>Seemingly disappointed but quickly over it, Cree tied her dreadlocks back into a ponytail and bent to kiss Molly goodbye.<br/>
“See you soon, babes.”</p><p>“Yeah definitely. And Thanks, y’know for…”</p><p>“Anytime.”</p><p>  Then the door closed behind her and Cree was gone.<br/>
Lucien rounded on Mollymauk.</p><p>“What the hell are you playing at, Mol? In hospital?!”</p><p>“Oh come on, Luc, don’t tell me you wouldn’t. If you was here, you’d have had that sea bitch every damn day you could. And had Caleb bringing you snacks for after. Don’t reckon Caleb’s the public indecency type though, else you’d have banged him an’ all.”</p><p>Lucien shook his head.<br/>
“You’re utterly ridiculous.”</p><p>Molly bowed to his twin from the bed.</p><p>  “Look, Mol…”<br/>
Lucien walked around the bed and sat down decidedly away from where he had last seen Cree. </p><p>“Can I… Can we… Talk?”</p><p>“Sure. Whassup?”</p><p>“I wanted to ask some things. About… about me. About… before.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>   Well, this was new. Lucien had wholeheartedly avoided talking about his past. The twins had tried several times in the weeks after rediscovering each other, but every time left things more fractured. Molly got upset and Lucien got frustrated. So they just never spoke about it after that.</p><p>  “I know. I know. And I really don’t want this to be an argument, Mol. I promise. I really do just want to know some things. If you’re… okay with talking about it?”</p><p>“Luc, it’s your life too. Course we can talk about it. Jus… jus don’ get mad if I get sad, ar’right?”</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>“So… What you wanna know?”</p><p>“Well, for starters, who is Cree? How does she know me?”</p><p>“Shit, Luc couldn’t have started with childhood pets or something?”</p><p>“Did we have childhood pets?”</p><p>“Nahh.”</p><p>“Well then.”</p><p>“Ar’right. Cree… Well, she was kinda… Your…”</p><p>“Oh gods, Mol, don’t tell me she’s my ex girlfriend?”</p><p>“No! Gods no! No, she was your like, right hand lady. Like, second in command. Of the Tomb Takers.”</p><p>“And what is the Tomb Takers?”</p><p>“They was your group.”</p><p>“My?”</p><p>“Yeah. Like your gang, only less motorbikes and patches. More secret meetings and planning shit.”</p><p>“What did we do? At these meetings?”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t do shit. You was in charge, Luc. I just sat an’ watched you.”</p><p>*</p><p>  Lucien had always had a way of making everyone else in a room fall silent, just with a look. He barely even needed to move a muscle. Mol loved it. He sat opposite Cree, playing footsie under the long table and trying not to smirk, watching his brother hold court like a King. Mol was happy to be Prince. He barely understood half of what Lucien was on about, but it sounded exciting and big. </p><p> Night after night, the Tomb Takers gathered around the same table in the basement hidden deep under the ground and talked. Months passed and the foundations of a plan were falling into place. Lucien was going to bring changes. Huge changes. The city would never be the same again, he told them. They, his chosen few, would help him rise to power and topple all else. Wipe out the wicked and the false. Blow away the liars and the cheats. The rich would fall, the weak would grow strong. The corrupt would be destroyed and in the dust they would emerge victorious. And how Nicodranas would love them.<br/>
Mol liked the plan for the explosives alone. They sat piled up around them now, all set and ready to be transported into place. Tonight they would act. Tonight they would detonate Luciens plan.</p><p> Tonight it all went wrong.</p><p>*</p><p>   “So, we were going to do a Guy Fawkes?!” Lucien breathed, eyes wide, as Mol told his story. </p><p>“Pretty much, yeah. You used to read me stories about him when we was kids.”</p><p>“I did?”</p><p>“Yeah, you was always better at words than me. You showed me the pictures and told me what it said. We’d stay up ages under the covers in your bed.”</p><p>“Were we ever caught?”</p><p>“Sometimes.”</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“Nothing? Our parents weren’t annoyed?”</p><p>“Not with you.”</p><p>“With you then?”</p><p>“Course. Always annoyed with me. You was the good kid. Bright future an’ all that.”</p><p>“Mol…”</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Why you sorry for?”</p><p>“Because I don’t remember.”</p><p>“I’m glad one of us don’t.”</p><p>“Mol. You never talk about them. Our mother and father.”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Can I ask about them?”</p><p>“What you wanna know?”</p><p>“What were they like?”</p><p>“Crap.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yeah. Hardly ever there, always off meeting posh rich snobs, wheedlin’ to be in their good books. Forever chasin’ more. More cash, more shitty paintings for the house, more friends in high places, more power and influence. Fuck they even changed our surname, didn’t think Tealeaf was good enough for their society.”</p><p>Lucien frowned, shuffling to sit back against the pillows beside his brother.<br/>
“They changed our name?”</p><p>“Yep. Call themselves ‘Briarwood’ now.”</p><p>“Wait, Mol, our parents are still alive?!”</p><p>“Yeah, why?”</p><p>“I thought- from the way you spoke about them- I thought- I thought they must be dead!”</p><p>“Fuck no, they’re still kickin’ it up North.”</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>“Whitestone.”</p><p>“Whitestone? Mol that’s… Fuck, Mol that’s thousands of miles away!”</p><p>“Yeah, and? You don’t think I was gonna stick around after we left, did ya? Hell no, I took you as far away as I could get. Carnival helped with most of that, course. Got further than we did on foot.”</p><p>“Why did we leave, how old were we?”</p><p>“Just before our 16th Birthday.”</p><p>“What happened, Mol?”</p><p>Mollymauk leaned back, resting his head against the bed frame and blinking up at the strip lighting on the grey ceiling.<br/>
“They just… It all got too much. Kept pushing. All they wanted was shit. All they wanted us to be was shit. Nothing I did was enough. They realized after a while that I was a lost fuckin’ cause and then they set sights on you and I just… I snapped, okay? I couldn’t let them do that to you. You was doin’ so good. You knew what you wanted. They tried to stop me, but I couldn’t let them break you. So I just… asked you to come and we went. Out the window and away. Gave the house the middle finger as we hopped the wall, then gone. Into the night.”</p><p>Lucien was very quiet and still. The room seemed to go mute, as silence rolled on.<br/>
“Did they hurt you, Mol?”</p><p>Mollys fingers twitched. He slowly began to itch the scared spots on the inside of his elbows as he answered his twin.<br/>
“When they wanted to teach me a lesson, yeah.”</p><p>“What did they do?”</p><p>“Depends. When I crashed fathers Ferrari they pulled me outta school for a month and sent me to a Young Offenders camp. When I shouted at them, they took away my cd’s. When I failed exams I got the old whack-a-roo.”</p><p>“The?”</p><p>“Fathers belt.” Mol said simply.</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“I’ve had worse. Is ar’right.”</p><p>“I don’t care, Mol, that’s shit. Did they… I mean, did I get… the same?”</p><p>“Not when I could help it.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, you did better in school anyways, but if you ever dropped I just made sure I did worse. Y’know. Give ‘em something else to focus on.”</p><p>“What did you do?”</p><p>“Uhhh, well like one time you got so caught up in reading this book you found on some old ancient city, you totally forgot to revise for a Geography exam. You was so freaked out all the way to school, so I just… Well, I mean I didn’t revise either so I just made sure my paper was fucked. Answered stupid shit to the multiple choices and for the essay bit I just wrote ‘fuck this place,’ all over the page. You got a B but I got a weeks detention and a note home. Sure as shit, they didn’t care about your B. It was great!”</p><p>“Mol…” </p><p>Looking round, Mol was startled. Lucien had one hand over his mouth, he looked as though he was about to cry.<br/>
“Luc, what the fuck?” Mol took his twins hand. “I swear they never did anything to you. I made sure. You’re okay.”</p><p>“That’s not the- Molly that’s not the point!” Lucien grabbed his brother and brought their foreheads together. “I love you.” He mumbled. “So much.”</p><p>Mol swallowed.<br/>
“I love you too, Luc.” He reached up to kiss Lucien’s forehead. “Forever and always.”</p><p>“So…” Lucien seemed to be struggling to keep his voice normal. “So, what happened with the Tomb Takers? Why didn’t we do the Guy Fawkes thing?”</p><p>  Mol growled deep in his throat.<br/>
“Someone dobbed us in. Got cold feet last minute. Cops raided us halfway through that last meeting. Everyone managed to get out the back doors, but they chucked some mental gas thing down there with us. These capsules exploded an’ all I could see was red. Red smoke, red you, red floor. We was the last ones out and we just kept on runnin’. Saw red for weeks after. Only just got away in time too.”</p><p>“Ah, so that’s why our eyes are messed up?” Lucien examined Mollys eyes closely. Crimson stains bleached out all the colour from both pairs. “Because the cops gassed us with something?”</p><p>Mol grimaced. “Yup. Never found out what the fuck it was though.” </p><p>“What colour were they originally?”</p><p>“Wanna see? Pass my bass.”</p><p>Lucien hopped off the bed and retrieved the guitar Yasha had brought in for Mol the day he woke up. Mol hadn’t even needed to ask. It was his pride and joy. His one thing. His only thing.<br/>
When he had it back in his hands, Molly fiddled with a couple of screws on the pick guard, loosening them until he could slip a finger underneath the plastic and pull out a crumpled old photograph.</p><p> The image was bright, taken inside one of the booths in a shopping mall in a city far far to the north. The twins faces were nestled up next to each other, grinning into the camera. They looked young. Unblemished, unmarked, no ink. Their hair was shorter, but clearly being grown out. Each sported rich violet curls, reaching to just the tips of their ears. Molly had one lip ring, it looked fresh and home-made. Lucien wore a hoodie with peacock feathers lining the hood. They had their arms flung around each others shoulders. And the four eyes smiling out of the photograph were whole un-marred green. </p><p>   “Wow.” Lucien looked and looked. Molly watched his brother, smiling. This was nice. And easier than he’d thought. ‘Wow’ really was the right word.</p><p>“That’s from right after we joined Fletching and Moondrop’s.” Molly told Lucien. “Just before Christmas. We was on tour by the 20th.”</p><p>“How old are we here?” Lucien traced the lines of the photograph with a finger.</p><p>“Uhhh hangon.” Molly raised his hands and counted off the years. “19.” He said finally.</p><p>“What did we do before the circus?”</p><p>“Whatever we could. Stole, begged, conned folks. I found a guitar in a skip one time, played on a corner for cash. Then we used it all and sold the guitar to get train tickets further south.”</p><p>“We lived on the streets?”</p><p>“Yuh. Always kept us warm and dry though. Doorways, old buildings. Sometimes shelters took us in if they had room. Then in summer we slept in parks. On the kids playgrounds. Watching the stars. Tried to count them so many times. Never got them all.”</p><p> Lucien looked as though he was wrestling with himself. Molly waited, watching his twin pour over the photo as though trying to commit it to memory.</p><p>“Why don’t you wear shoes?” He asked, at last. “I got the impression it had something to do with all this, but couldn’t work it out.”</p><p>Mol sniffed a short laugh.<br/>
“You was always the clever one, Luc.” He shook his head, smile still in place. “Well, one winter it was awful. Just kept getting colder and colder. All the shelters was full, no one was bein’ generous with cash, we was stealin’ more than ever and kept moving so we didn’t get caught. Nights was the worst. Wherever we was, woke up freezin’. Then your boots gave up. They’d been fucked for ages but one day it was pissing down an’ you stepped in this puddle an’ your feet came out without the boots. They sorta just came apart. You was soaking wet, could’ve got hyp-oh-th-am-e-a or whatever, so I gave you my docs. Weren’t in great nick, but they did you ‘til we got to the circus. I just, didn’t bother after that.”</p><p>“But Mol, that’s stupid, you could have-“</p><p>“I’m the oldest.” Mol said firmly. “I took you with me, I’m meant to look after you. Honest, Luc, I don’t care. I never cared long as you was okay.”</p><p>   And he didn’t. Mollymauk would give anything for his brother. His shoes were the very least he could do. </p><p>  “Thank you for telling me all this.” Lucien settled back again, lying beside Mol, who yawned and stretched out, curling into his twins side like a kitten.</p><p>Lucien wrapped an arm around Molly and closed his eyes.</p><p>“Can I take a copy of this?” He tapped the photograph as he handed it back.</p><p>“Course.”</p><p>“Molly, you should probably know, I’m seeing Lorenzo again next week. He’s taking me over to the warehouses to go over the inventory for our first shipment. I just… You’ve been so honest with me, I want to do the same.”</p><p>Mol stiffened, hearing the name. But he refused to ruin this moment, so he just said,</p><p>“Okay. Tell me how it goes, yeah?” He held up his pinky finger. “Promise?”</p><p>Lucien entwined his own pinky with his twins.</p><p>“Promise.”</p><p>***</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sweet-talk and Stitches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(i got a busy next week of work so here have some more while I have the energy to write!)</p>
<p>Arti ran his tongue along his top lip, drawing Molly in with deep emerald eyes.<br/>“Revisit any time you want.”</p>
<p>He was fucking intoxicating if you got too close. In fact, Mollymauk found himself frequently attempting to get as close as he could to their lead guitarist at gigs and rehearsals.</p>
<p>“So, your place after?”</p>
<p>“Can’t. Jessie’s over for brother-sister movie marathon night. Non-negotiable, she said.”</p>
<p>“Fuck.”</p>
<p>“I could always give you a ride home..?”</p>
<p>Wicked grins spread across both faces.</p>
<p>Mol shifted his bass around to his hip, stepping in to murmur into Arti’s ear,<br/>“Back seat serenade hey?”</p>
<p>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>.<br/>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.</p>
<p>THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES ALLUDING TO SEX</p>
<p>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Nine. Sweet-talk and Stitches. </p>
<p>   “A five six seven ten!” </p>
<p>Mollymauk began to thwack the strings of his bass, hearing the swell of sound as the rest of the band began to play ‘Scotty Doesn’t Know.’<br/>
They had argued for at least a week about which song to trial the auditioning drummers with, and eventually had drawn straws for it.<br/>
Arti had won. </p>
<p> ‘Smug prick.’ Mol thought with a grin, as he threw a wink across the little stage towards the mass of ginger hair bobbing in time with the riff. </p>
<p>Mol craned in over his microphone and belted out the first verse, moving across to join Arti as they leaned their heads together to sing the chorus.</p>
<p>   “Whadda you think?” Mol asked under his breath, as the last notes petered out and the room fell into chatter. </p>
<p>“Very good.” Arti swung his guitar over his shoulder, turning with Mol to look across at the young woman standing up from behind the drum kit. </p>
<p>“Reckon she out-played the rest?”</p>
<p>“I do, actually.” Arti nodded. “And she’s been working security for the last couple of years. Could come in handy, that. Especially with you around.”</p>
<p>Mol shoved his elbow hard into Arti’s ribs. </p>
<p>“Fuck off, I’m an angel.”</p>
<p>“Demon, more like. ‘Devil Tongue’ Molly.”</p>
<p>“You’d know.”</p>
<p>Arti ran his tongue along his top lip, drawing Molly in with deep emerald eyes.<br/>
“Revisit any time you want.”</p>
<p>He was fucking intoxicating if you got too close. In fact, Mollymauk found himself frequently attempting to get as close as he could to their lead guitarist at gigs and rehearsals.</p>
<p>“So, your place after?”</p>
<p>“Can’t. Jessie’s over for brother-sister movie marathon night. Non-negotiable, she said.”</p>
<p>“Fuck.”</p>
<p>“I could always give you a ride home..?”</p>
<p>Wicked grins spread across both faces.</p>
<p>Mol shifted his bass around to his hip, stepping in to murmur into Arti’s ear,<br/>
“Back seat serenade hey?”</p>
<p>The response he got was low, soft like butter wouldn’t melt, and it lit up the hairs down the back of Molly’s neck.<br/>
“Whiskey Princess.”</p>
<p>“Damn right I am.”</p>
<p>“You know, Yasha hasn’t pulled us apart yet.” Arti noted, hot breath trickling down Molly’s collarbone. “I feel like she should have banged our heads together by now.”</p>
<p>“And threatened to rip our dicks off if we don’t keep things professional, yeah.” Mol mused. “I wonder how much longer we’ve got?”</p>
<p>Both of them turned to check.</p>
<p>“OI OI!”</p>
<p>   Their shouts seemed to jolt through the air. The tall strong woman straightened up from the back wall, where she’d been laughing and listening intently to the shorter woman’s jokes. There was a misty dazed look about her that made Mol delighted for his friend.</p>
<p>“So you like this one too then, hey?” Mol called over to Yasha, who to her credit managed to mask any embarrassment from showing on her face.</p>
<p>“Yes. The best drummer we’ve seen all day.” She agreed, calmly, ignoring Molly’s wiggling eyebrows.</p>
<p>“That’s you-nam-e-nus then!” Molly declared. </p>
<p>He strode over to the other pair and held out a hand.</p>
<p>“You’re in! Welcome to The Ice Spinners, Beau!”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “Fhhuuuccckkk! Fuck fuck FUCK!”</p>
<p>“I will choke you if you don’t hush!”</p>
<p>“Do it, you kinky shit!”</p>
<p>“Lay back then, ‘Devil Tongue’!”</p>
<p>“Fhhnnnnnkkkk!”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   Molly staggered out of Arti’s car clutching his bass. He leaned on the window frame, catching his breath as Arti fastened his seat belt.</p>
<p>“Reckon Yash and Beau got up to much on their carpool?”</p>
<p>“Nahh, they’re both too shy to make the first move.” Arti brushed a thumb down Molly’s mouth. “Maybe we should encourage them in the ways of rampant sexual liaisons.”</p>
<p>“That’d be dangerous. We’d never get any practicing done.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you get all sensible on me now. Impulsive whimsy is what keeps you interesting.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that an’ the gear.”</p>
<p>“I find you far more fascinating off the stuff, to be honest.”</p>
<p>Mol snorted.<br/>
“Yeah right. Later, Arti. Sexy fucker.”</p>
<p>“Later, Devil Tongue!”</p>
<p>*** </p>
<p>   “Soooo, how’s Beau doing?”</p>
<p>“Molly, your coco is getting cold.”</p>
<p>“So I’ll microwave it in a bit, tell me about your date!”</p>
<p>Yasha sighed. But Molly decided that he could see the hint of a smile behind her exasperation with him. </p>
<p>“It was, ah... Very nice.”</p>
<p>“Very nice?” Mol repeated. “You scored a date with a hott bitchin’ drummer, and all you gotta say is ‘it was very nice!’ That code for ‘we banged on the pool table?’ ‘Cause I did that before and Luc was piiiissssseddd.”</p>
<p>A heavy hand cuffed him around the ear.</p>
<p>“Some people enjoy the romance of getting to know each other before shagging, Molly.”</p>
<p>“Ew, why?”</p>
<p>“Because it’s-“</p>
<p>“If you say ‘very nice’ again I’m gonna throw this hot chocolate on you.”</p>
<p>As a retort, Yasha swept her leg out. Molly found the world tumbling around him as he was knocked onto the casino floor.</p>
<p>“Oww!”</p>
<p>“You’re all healed up now, don’t get cheeky.”</p>
<p>Grumbling under his breath, Molly sat forwards and dragged himself up, hanging onto the bar.<br/>
“But you like her, right?”</p>
<p>Molly loved Yasha’s eyes. They were the colours of two galaxies far off in space, and whenever she was happy they lit up like stars peppered across the iris’s. They were glowing now. All around the woman, the very air was pulsing with colours.</p>
<p>  Yasha was stormy grey, colossal but gentle. Her power showed itself in strength, but in subtle ways too. The more important ways; bear hugs and tender kisses, late night chats when the world felt lost, learning songs and keeping everyone safe.</p>
<p>Lucien had shifted colours since Molly had found him again. When they were growing up, the younger Tealeaf had been dotted with scarlet. Now he stood surrounded in swirls of amber. It reminded Molly of Caleb. Perhaps it was a sign the two were meant to be. Sometimes Molly believed in soulmates. He could never imagine one for himself though.</p>
<p>Cree was special. She was speckled with gold. Molly could never take his eyes off it once they got started. Sex or drugs, there it was. And there she was, and gods did he want her all around him.</p>
<p>Arti was green. He wore it like a cloak billowing all around him.</p>
<p>Beau was yellow. Molly wasn’t sure why, but there she was. Whenever he caught the colours in his vision, she was sunny and bright.</p>
<p>That sea bitch was dull murky green. Like sludge dredged up from murky waters then caked in mud. Molly wasn’t sure if it was he or the universe casting Avantika in that grimy glow, but he doggedly avoided asking himself the question.</p>
<p>   “So when you move in together, can I have my own room?” Mol asked eagerly, licking whipped cream off his drink.</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>“Can I have a bunk bed?”</p>
<p>“Of course you can.”</p>
<p>“Can I get one of our huge stage posters and hang it all along one wall?”</p>
<p>“Mhmm.”</p>
<p>“Can I have a walk-in closet?!”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“For real?!”</p>
<p>“Drink your coco, Molly.”</p>
<p>*** </p>
<p>   It was shaping up to be a pretty kick-ass day, Mol thought. His ribs didn’t ache anymore. The last three band practices had been fantastic. They had six gigs lined up. AND he’d found the perfect shade of purple hair dye in a cute little market stall.</p>
<p>He was now sat in the dead centre of his room at the casino, in an explosion of jeans, shirts and fabrics, gnawing on a thread.</p>
<p>“Ha!” The strand broke, and Mol tied the end off happily, holding up his handiwork for inspection.</p>
<p>All in all, it wasn’t a bad job. Molly had learned a great many things since running away all those years ago, but the most valuable things were from the circus.<br/>
It had been Gustav who took note of the way Molly stared from the wings every time the aerialists took flight. It had been Desmond who taught the twins to balance and walk and then soar. It had been Ornna who had found Molly sobbing over a torn pair of striped pants he’d caught on something mid-show, and it had been she who sat with him day after day teaching him how to sew. Molly was never as slick-fingered as she, or as delicate, but he managed to salvage one half of the striped pants, forging a new pair with some diamond patterned fabric Gustav gifted to him when they refurbished the Big Top. </p>
<p>  Now Mol was concentrating hard. His pointy tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he threaded the needle again and pulled the next pair of jeans towards him.<br/>
They were all tattered and grubby, but some were almost too destroyed to walk in. These he was determined to rescue.<br/>
He chopped a rough square out of the arm of an old shirt he never wore anymore, and set about stitching it onto a shredded calf of the faded black jeans. </p>
<p>It was rare to catch Mollymauk in such moments of absolute focus, but they did happen. A peaceful tranquillity settled over the bedroom, punctured occasionally by Mol’s yelps of, “Motherfucker!” when he stabbed his thumb. </p>
<p>  He was listening to a playlist he’d made the previous year, using one of Lucien’s old laptops that was buried somewhere beneath a pile of fabric scraps.<br/>
Mol sang along as he worked, toes tapping along with the bass line which he’d just finished learning. </p>
<p>  “I'll walk you in the sunshine<br/>
Come on honey, come along with me<br/>
She's got everything delightful<br/>
She's got everything I need- OWCH!”</p>
<p>   Mol sucked on the tip of his thumb, then tied off the last few stitches.</p>
<p>“Cool.”<br/>
Getting to his feet, Mol brushed stray threads off his clothing and tugged on his current jeans, dropping them onto the ever growing pile of stuff that made up his bedroom floor. </p>
<p> Stood in front of the mirror, the full effect was terrific.<br/>
Old black denim was shot through with streaks of patchwork technicolour.<br/>
Mol beamed at his reflection as he preened and pranced around in a circle.<br/>
The next song rolled on and Mol punched the air as he danced up and down.</p>
<p>“Party party party, I wanna have a party!<br/>
I need to have a party! You better have a party!<br/>
Come on, party party party!<br/>
You gotta party hardy, I’m gonna have a party!<br/>
Or else you will be-“</p>
<p>*Vvvvvvt Vvvvvvvt*</p>
<p>His ringtone kicked into gear, filtering through the rousing chorus.<br/>
*Guess who just got back today<br/>
Them wild eyed boys that had been away<br/>
Haven't changed, hadn't much to say<br/>
But, man, I still think them cats are crazy*</p>
<p>“Suuup?”</p>
<p>“Molly? It is Caleb. I, ah…”</p>
<p>“Caleb? Whassup?”<br/>
A niggle of uncertainty twinged.</p>
<p>“I do not know, Molly. I, ah, perhaps it is nothing. But… But…”</p>
<p>The niggle had reached Molly’s throat.<br/>
“Whas wrong?”</p>
<p>“Lucien has not come home.”</p>
<p>There it was. </p>
<p>“Where is he?”<br/>
Somehow, Molly already knew the answer.</p>
<p>“Well, he- I am sure that Lucien told you he was going. Or he told me that he would inform you how it all went. He didn’t wish to worry you, Molly.”</p>
<p>“Where is he?”</p>
<p>“He went with Lorenzo. Hours ago. I do not wish to cause a panic, but he was supposed to be back at 3.”</p>
<p>Molly crashed through the mess to seize the little clock on the bedside table.</p>
<p>20:06</p>
<p>  “Shit, shit Caleb!”</p>
<p>“His meetings have run long before, but… This is…”</p>
<p>“I’ll KILL HIM!”</p>
<p>“Molly, no. No, this could all be a misunderstanding. Please don’t do anything rash.”</p>
<p>“I’m going. I’ll call when I’ve got Luc.”</p>
<p>“Molly, please be c-“</p>
<p>But Mol had already hung up.</p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Wounds Old and New</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This had to be bad. It couldn’t be anything else. Lucien wasn’t so careless; he would never leave Caleb like this for so long. It had to be something. Lorenzo knew how to hurt you in ways you could not even imagine. That man knew how to hold you down, how to tear you apart and then make you wish he never let go. It all got so much worse. Everything always got so much worse.</p>
<p>“LUC?!” It all came flooding out in a wave of dread.</p>
<p>Molly felt his face hot and sticky as he blundered down aisle after aisle, the inky blackness lapping up his tears, laughing at him, dragging him down.</p>
<p>  Then.</p>
<p>A light.</p>
<p>There was a door ahead. An office at the far back of the warehouse. Underneath the frame spilled a pale glow.</p>
<p> Molly ran. </p>
<p>...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An Alternative Universe Mafia setting, featuring characters from Critical Role campaigns 1 &amp; 2.</p>
<p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' (Mollymauk) I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.</p>
<p>WARNING<br/>WARNING<br/>This chapter contains reference and alludes to sexual violence, drugs and fighting, murder etc.<br/>DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU</p>
<p>Loads of Love.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blood.<br/>Chapter Ten. 'Wounds Old and New'</p>
<p>“Luc?”</p>
<p>The warehouse was silent as the grave. Molly swallowed back the horrible thoughts trickling into his mind as he pressed on through the packing crates and into the gloom. </p>
<p>“Luc?”</p>
<p>   Boxes upon boxes sat piled around him; great towering monsters rearing up out of the darkness.</p>
<p>Mollymauk was a little afraid of the dark.</p>
<p>  “Luc?!” He was desperate now; it began to show with the crack in his voice. A waver, a tremble. Molly bit his lip and wobbled the snakebite rings hard. They twisted into his skin, pinpricks of discomfort to settle him, concentrate his hammering heart on something other than panic.</p>
<p>  On and on he walked, through the maze of shipments.</p>
<p>  Maybe his brother wasn’t here. Maybe this was all some big joke. Maybe nothing at all had happened. Mol paused.</p>
<p>Maybe Lucien was with that sea bitch.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p>  Mol dragged his phone out of a back pocket and tapped through his contacts. He had begrudgingly taken Avantika’s number from Luc, just in case anything came up. He supposed now that was a good thing.</p>
<p>   It rang. </p>
<p>  And rang.</p>
<p>  And rang.</p>
<p> “If you don’ pick up ‘cause you’re too busy screwin’ my brother, I swear I’ll-“</p>
<p>“Hello, Fish In The Sea executive speaking.”</p>
<p>“You’re back working with that guy?!”</p>
<p>“Excuse m- oh for fucks sake, Mollymauk?!”</p>
<p>“Yeah it’s fuckin’ Mollymauk! Is Luc with you?”</p>
<p>“I hardly see how that’s any of your business.”</p>
<p>“TELL ME!!”</p>
<p>“Get fucked, Mollymauk.”</p>
<p>“No, listen, it’s fuckin’ important! Is he with you?”</p>
<p>  There was a silence on the other end.</p>
<p>“No. He’s not with me. Are you happy now?”</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ delighted.” Molly hung up.</p>
<p> “Shit. Shit shit SHIT!”</p>
<p>   This had to be bad. It couldn’t be anything else. Lucien wasn’t so careless; he would never leave Caleb like this for so long. It had to be something. Lorenzo knew how to hurt you in ways you could not even imagine. That man knew how to hold you down, how to tear you apart and then make you wish he never let go. It all got so much worse. Everything always got so much worse.</p>
<p>“LUC?!” It all came flooding out in a wave of dread.</p>
<p>Molly felt his face hot and sticky as he blundered down aisle after aisle, the inky blackness lapping up his tears, laughing at him, dragging him down.</p>
<p>  Then.</p>
<p>A light.</p>
<p>There was a door ahead. An office at the far back of the warehouse. Underneath the frame spilled a pale glow.</p>
<p> Molly ran. </p>
<p>A toolbox seemed to come out of nowhere and he tripped. Hands clutched at cardboard boxes, which came apart and showered him in foam nuggets as he tore through the last stretch towards that slither of light.</p>
<p>   Fingers rang with sweat and tears as they scrabbled for the handle.</p>
<p>   Which turned.</p>
<p>   The door swung open.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “Well, look who’s finally come to join the party!”</p>
<p>  Molly reeled. A string of tears hung off his chin as he could do nothing but stand and stare.</p>
<p> It was like watching a memory, reliving it all in horrifying technicolour. Every inch was the same. Every hand in the same places. Big burly ones clutched at a blade pinned into flesh, dirty nails dug into hips. Then the softer, paler hands scratching and clawing at the desk, burning to get away.</p>
<p>“M-Mol- g-ghh- get out-t-t-ve- he-ere!”</p>
<p>The knife was exactly the length of Lucien’s throat. Lorenzo would have chosen it specially. Molly recognised it. Molly knew it. Molly had taken its bite before. </p>
<p> “Took your sweet time, little Molly. I thought you’d be here hours ago.” Lorenzo leaned in closer and Lucien’s hips jerked. “Your brother here has had to entertain me all by himself. He’s desperate for you to take over.”</p>
<p>Two pairs of crimson stained eyes met, and Molly saw Lucien begging him wordlessly. Pleading. Straining against the beast pinning him over the desk. Papers were scattered, a pot of pens overturned, a laptop balanced precariously on the very edge. Mol began to breathe harder as he picked out the tracks where his twins nails had torn through the wood. </p>
<p>“M-Molly-“ Lucien whispered.</p>
<p>“Go on. Ask him.” The victory seeped out of Lorenzo like treacle. “Ask dear little Molly to take your place. He will. You know he will.”</p>
<p>Lucien’s face was dragged up by thick fingers. </p>
<p>“He knows, sweet Molly. I told him all about us.”</p>
<p>“Wh...” Molly could not look away from Lucien.</p>
<p>“Yhh-you- you were with him.” There was something else in Luciens eyes now. Something rising up behind the hurt. “You w-whh-were with HIM!”</p>
<p>Molly opened his mouth.</p>
<p>But nothing came out.</p>
<p>   “YOU WERE WITH HIM, HIGH OFF YOUR ASS, WHEN I NEEDED YOU!”</p>
<p>“Oh it’s all coming out now, Molly.” Lorenzo crooned, pressing Lucien further down into the desk as he braced.</p>
<p>“I... I... yeah we were... we were together. Luc, I didn’ tell you ‘cause I was ashamed... Then it all kicked off and you... and...” </p>
<p>     *And you were dead, so I couldn’t tell you*</p>
<p>Lucien was struggling to remain upright under Lorenzo’s weight. A tinge of blood ensnared the blade at his throat.</p>
<p> “I d-don’t give a sh-hhhnnnnn-shit that you d-didn’t tellhhhhhhh me, Mol! But y-yhhh-you were WITH HIM when- when I was IN THAT ALLEY!”</p>
<p>  Mollymauk’s blood ran cold. He found the door handle slipping from his grasp as the floor came rushing up to meet him.</p>
<p> Lorenzo was laughing. It rang around the small room, filling the air. </p>
<p>“Please, Luc- I- I’m sorry!”</p>
<p>“Sorry?! Sorry?!” Lucien repeated, snarling through the howl of pain as Lorenzo slammed him into the desk once more. “Sorry won’t cut it this time, Mol! When I called you, when I was BLEEDING OUT, on my own, YOU WERE SHOOTING UP AND SUCKING HIS DICK!”</p>
<p>   That much of the story had always been clear. The one memory Lucien had retained was the worst of them all. A rain-soaked alley. Night. A desperate phone call to... someone. Blood. Then nothing.<br/>
Molly had not needed to recount that. Lucien had always known. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry!” He cried now. “I’m sorry, Luc, I- I... When you called, I came running! I was there, I was there I swear, I came and found you! I called the ambulance, I got you there, I... I...”</p>
<p> Lucien screamed.</p>
<p>“Stop, please, please stop!”</p>
<p>But this time it wasn’t for Molly he was yelling.</p>
<p>Lorenzo grunted in satisfaction and threw Lucien away from him. Mol knew that noise. Falling forwards, he threw up whatever was in his stomach all over the office floor. </p>
<p>How many times had Lorenzo-?</p>
<p>Molly stifled that thought as he choked. </p>
<p>“Luc...” He crawled towards his brother but was stopped by a steel-capped boot thudding into his shoulder. </p>
<p>Lorenzo was laughing again.</p>
<p>“Luc, please..?”</p>
<p>The younger twin was very still, watching Molly from where he lay.</p>
<p>“Please, Luc? I fucked up so bad, but I was getting out. I told him I was leavin’ the day you was... The day you...”</p>
<p>Gods, but why did it have to hurt so much?</p>
<p>“I swear I was leavin’. I was done. I came as soon as you called. I know I should’ve been there before, it should’ve been me. It should’ve been me, Luc.”</p>
<p>Lorenzo said nothing, but he crouched low over Molly, threading fingers through wet violet curls as he savoured listening. </p>
<p>A buckle grinded on the concrete floor as Lucien pulled his black tailored pants back on and fastened them tight. Still the twins held onto each others gaze. </p>
<p>“I was leaving. I was leaving him... Luc... Please?” </p>
<p>Molly found himself slipping into their secret language as he begged his brother. “Luc- I love you so much, I never wanted to leave you. He kept me, Luc. He kept me there. I thought I was his boyfriend but I was so doped up I never realised I was just a prisoner. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>Lucien surprised Molly then. Surprised him so much that both twins just lay on the manky office floor and blinked at the other.<br/>
“I understand. I forgive you, Mollymauk. I love you too.” Lucien replied perfectly in their secret language. Hearing it after so long dragged the breath from Mollys lungs.</p>
<p>“Luc..?”</p>
<p>“Molly. Can we kill this son of a bitch now?”</p>
<p>Twin pairs of red lit up.</p>
<p>“Fuck yes.”</p>
<p>   Oh, Lorenzo was in danger now. He didn’t realise yet, but he was in so much danger. </p>
<p>The boot slammed down and Molly collapsed, smashing his face on the ground.</p>
<p>*If my nose is broken again, I swear to fuck imma go onstage anyway!* Mol thought angrily. </p>
<p>He felt the rage then, really felt it. Not numbed out by shock and grief. Not frozen in horror watching Lucien live Mollys worst memories. No. Now it was just fire and hate and the want to KILL.</p>
<p>“Get the FUCK off him!”</p>
<p>Lucien was on his feet, and although he stood like every step was agony, he balled his fists and faced the monster in the warehouse. </p>
<p> “Would you look at this, little Molly? Lucie is feeling like a brave boy.”</p>
<p>Lorenzo stood up, one foot ground into Molly’s spine keeping him down.</p>
<p>“Final warning.”<br/>
As Lucien stood there, glaring down a demon, Molly could have sworn he was seeing his brother from 5 years ago. It was Lucien. The real Lucien. The OG, original, best brother in the entire world Lucien. The leader of the Tomb Takers, Lucien. The Lucien who could cut you down with his charm. </p>
<p>Molly was as in awe now as he was back then.</p>
<p>   Lorenzo was not laughing. Perhaps something in him had realised what a change had just come over the younger Tealeaf. Perhaps he was too arrogant to realise that anything was different. </p>
<p>Whichever way it was, his foot lifted, and Molly gagged on a fresh lung-full of air.</p>
<p> “And what exactly are you going to do, little Lucie?” The question dug at Lucien, who answered in a voice that showed no sign of faltering now.</p>
<p>“Payback.”</p>
<p> Lucien had always been the more methodical. Planning careful action and then executing it for the best results. Mol could never concentrate long enough to pre-plan.<br/>
So when it came to working in harmony, you could be forgiven for assuming that the twins just could not do it.</p>
<p>But then...</p>
<p>Have you ever seen the twins tag-team an enemy?</p>
<p>   Molly went first.</p>
<p>He took the opportunity while Lorenzo was jeering at Lucien, to roll over and kick out hard. Mol struck the orc of a man right in the shins. </p>
<p>One of Lorenzo’s knees buckled.</p>
<p>“You little-!”</p>
<p>Before Lorenzo could finish, Lucien had pounced. </p>
<p>He seemed, to Mol at least, to dive across the room like a tiger. Like Frumpkin whenever Mol caught him wandering around on top of the fridge, only so so much cooler. </p>
<p>   “Mol, my bag!”</p>
<p> Lucien had caught Lorenzo around the neck and was hanging on. </p>
<p>The monster roared.</p>
<p>Molly swung around onto all-fours, hissing as his ribs creaked. </p>
<p>Bag.<br/>
Bag...</p>
<p>Bag!</p>
<p>  It was expensive leather. Of course it was. And it was sat on the far side of the desk. Mol twisted out of the way as a gruff hand swept towards him. Lucien was shouting. Lorenzo was muffled as he raged and flailed. Mol shoved his way under the desk, stretching, reaching, grasping for the long deep grey strap.</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ Yes!”<br/>
Molly tugged. The bag shot towards him, its contents upending all over the office floor. Forms, notes, files of endless things Molly could never hope to understand. But there was one thing he did. A green curve of metal, skittering to a halt by his elbow. Molly seized the penknife and flicked it open. He practically sprinted backwards shuffling from under the desk, wheeling about as he threw himself into the fight.</p>
<p> The knife was embedded into Lorenzo as many times as Mol could manage, once in the thigh, another couple in the stomach, before he passed it off to Lucien in a flick of two wrists. The younger twin began hacking away at the raging beast’s throat. Mol looked wildly around for some kind of weapon for himself. They had to bring Lorenzo down. It was now or never ever ever. </p>
<p>It was now. It was going to be now.</p>
<p> “He was too doped up to notice-“ Lorenzo was grappling, holding Lucien at bay with a hand, as the other clutched at his pouring throat. </p>
<p>Mol fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, feeling his way until he grabbed a hold of his last needle.</p>
<p>“Stupid little Molly. Always- so- stupid!” Lorenzo was gloating. It was burning out of his eyes. But Molly couldn’t work out what the monster was talking about.</p>
<p>Lucien made for another swing but Lorenzo fended him off.</p>
<p>A horrible smile was at work on those lips.</p>
<p>“He wishes he was sucking my dick, Lucie. But he wasn’t.”</p>
<p>Lucien had slowed his swing.</p>
<p>Everyone was paying attention now.</p>
<p>“Little Molly passed out in a comatose bliss, just after 10.” Lorenzo crooned. “And then ohhh then. Then I came to find you Lucie. That’s the problem with you two, you make yourselves so easy to hunt down.”</p>
<p>“Wh-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Such a simple thing. So damn easy.” The monsters eyes turned onto Molly. “You really thought I’d let you walk out on me?  On ME?!”</p>
<p> Lucien slipped a little, still hanging onto Lorenzo’s neck.</p>
<p>“I was leavin’... I told you I was leavin’...”</p>
<p>“Yes you did, little Molly.” Lorenzo’s voice was low, rough like sandpaper working away at Molly’s chest. “And what did I tell you?”<br/>
Molly was quiet.<br/>
“I told you there was no fucking way you’d leave my side. And if you tried, I’d make you regret it. What? Too doped up to remember that bit, were you?”</p>
<p>“N...no.” Molly remembered alright. And something like ice was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.</p>
<p>“And what do I find when I get home from work? Bags packed and you halfway out the window. Well, now, we couldn’t have that, could we? Had to show you what you get for treating me like that. Had to do something. Show you what you get f-“</p>
<p>“It was YOU?!” Molly screamed as the ice exploded inside him. “You killed Luc!!”</p>
<p>The monster roared with laughter. Blood pumped out of his throat, great trickles of it ran down his chin, but the teeth were bared and Lorenzo showed no sign of caving yet.</p>
<p>“It was me.” He jeered, flicking Lucien off with an elbow. The younger twin stood, horrified.</p>
<p>“You killed me?” He asked.</p>
<p>“I did. And it was all working out swimmingly, until that bitch had to interfere.”</p>
<p>“Who?” Lucien was puzzled.</p>
<p>Molly took another step towards Lorenzo, gripping tight onto the needle in his back pocket.</p>
<p>“Oh ho, yet more secrets little Molly has been keeping from you.” Lorenzo snickered. “He disappeared on me, and next thing I know, he’s gone running to that Raven Bitch and she’s ordered all these new tests and experimental procedures, and low and behold Lucien fucking Tealeaf is back alive and kicking!”</p>
<p>Molly felt a growl rise up in him.</p>
<p>“So of course, I couldn’t be having that. Went to see you, didn’t I. So fragile and helpless in that hospital bed, Lucie. I could have killed you again and finished the job, but then I thought- no. Something else could be much more satisfying.”</p>
<p>“You changed my name.”</p>
<p>“Got it in one, clever Lucie!” Molly was another step closer now, as the monster spat out laughter once more. “Used my own contacts, pulled a string or two, and then it was done. Lucien Tealeaf who? Mollymauk was lying in that bed instead, not able to remember a damn thing.”</p>
<p>“WHY?” Mol demanded, unable to stop himself as he stood frozen inches from Lorenzo.</p>
<p>But it was Lucien who answered his brother.<br/>
“Because if I thought I was you, I wouldn’t go looking for you. If everyone thought Lucien was dead, and I was Mollymauk, there would be no reason we would... ever see eachother again.”</p>
<p>Lorenzo was triumphant.<br/>
“And it worked like a charm! What a terrific joke! How funny it was, watching little Molly lose his mind when all the time little Lucie was right there!” The monster doubled over laughing. “You should have seen him, Lucie. Throwing himself into so much debt, I had dealers banging on the door looking for him. No one knew where you were. I can only imagine how many you owed. Not to mention the Raven Bitch! What could you possibly have offered to her, little Molly? To make her save him! But in a way that just made the new plan all the sweeter. The two of you separated for years, I couldn’t have asked for a bet-”<br/>
But Lorenzo was cut off by Mollymauk.</p>
<p>   A screech of the utmost rage escaped the man, as Molly slammed the needle directly into Lorenzo’s left eye. Deep rich salty red surrendered across agonised gargling groans.</p>
<p>Lucien caught Molly as he staggered, and the twins darted backwards as the wild beast clawed and slashed at the air.</p>
<p>They weren’t fast enough.</p>
<p>Lorenzo caught Lucien hard across the face, sending him slamming into the nearest wall, where he crumpled. Molly ducked one hand but the other broke past and he was thrown to the floor.</p>
<p>Then, with a horrible, ear-splitting howl, Lorenzo crashed down onto the ground and moved no more.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>   “Ow... Ouch... Ow, oow, fuck fuck fuck...”</p>
<p>Mol’s eyes flickered open. Crimson slits peaked out at the world.<br/>
The warehouse was still and calm. It was dark. Lorenzo had taken out the desk lamp as he fell the final time. Overhead, the strip lighting flickered and buzzed. </p>
<p>“Fuck... Luc? Luc?”</p>
<p>“Molly?”</p>
<p>Their voices were feeble across the dingy floor.</p>
<p>   The hulking man lay sprawled on the floor. A pool of red surrounding him.</p>
<p>Red. Red. Red. </p>
<p>   “You okay? Luc, you hurt?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Yeah you’re hurt or yeah y-?”</p>
<p>“Yes I am hurt, Mol.” </p>
<p>“I’m comin’.” Molly began to crawl across the office towards his twins’ voice. The world was bleary as he slowly, painfully made his way.</p>
<p>“Mol, we need- we need help.” Lucien whispered. He was slumped back against the wall, eyes brimming with hurt tears. As Mol dragged himself up to sit heavily beside his brother, Lucien fumbled in a pocket for his phone.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry...” It was Mollymauk’s feint whimper which drew Luciens eyes to him.</p>
<p>“It’s alright. I forgave you, Mol. I promise. It’s-”</p>
<p>“No, it’s not. Luc, he- he... he...”</p>
<p>“Don’t.”</p>
<p>“I should’ve got here before. Fuck, I should’ve followed you. I should never have let you-”</p>
<p>“Mol. Don’t. Please? It’s not your fault. I thought I could handle him. I was... wrong.”</p>
<p>“Luc...”</p>
<p>“Mol... Was that... what he was like with you?”</p>
<p>“...Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Fucking hell.”</p>
<p>“I never wanted you to know.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad I do. I was awful to you, Mol. I thought you were just... I’m sorry. I never even thought...”</p>
<p>“Luc, fuck that. Fuck me, I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re still... Still here.”</p>
<p>Lucien grabbed Mollymauk’s hand and squeezed hard.<br/>
“I never thought about how horrible it must have been for you. I was so damn obsessed with my problems, my memory and my everything. I never thought... You... You thought I was dead. I never thought how much you had to deal with...”</p>
<p>“Luc, it’s fine. Really.”</p>
<p>“No. No it’s not.” Lucien shook his head with a groan as a bad bruising cut on his forehead throbbed. “Molly, I didn’t put it all together. I thought you’d always been... I never clicked on! It was me- me dying- that made you... Pushed you... And now you’re...”</p>
<p>“A useless junkie waster, yeah.”</p>
<p>“No, Mol.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“No. Look, yes you’re using bad, but I wish I’d realised why. I’m a bloody idiot.”</p>
<p>Mol hugged into his brothers arm.<br/>
“Shut up, Luc. I got you back, I don’t care.”</p>
<p>Lucien leaned back against the wall and took a long deep breath.</p>
<p>“I need to call Uk’otoa. He can help us clean all this up. Can you call Cad? I don’t much fancy explaining any of this shit to the hospital.”</p>
<p>Molly reluctantly complied.</p>
<p>   Two phone calls for help completed, the twins sat together as the pool of Lorenzo’s blood seeped gently towards them.</p>
<p>...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Leviathan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Maybe I am something like a guardian angel.” The low, steady voice replied.</p><p> Firm hands gripped at Molly’s arms. He looked down and met a stony glare. Uk’otoa was rubbing a thumb across the purple track-marks down Mollys right arm. A gasp escaped Mol as he winced, trying to pull away, but Uk’otoa held tight.</p><p>Those honey eyes found the tremble in the tips of Mollys fingers, the grooves of nails in skin, the grey tinge behind crimson iris’s. And something burned inside the gold now. Molly could feel it radiating onto him. Hate. Hate and disgust and vile loathing towards Molly and every ounce of his being.</p><p>*He knows.*</p><p>   Uk’otoa leaned in closer, starting to wrap the bandaging around Mollys arms.<br/>“Withdrawal is a bitch.” He spoke it like a fact, not a judgement. </p><p>Somehow that worried Molly even more.</p><p> </p><p>...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is based on an RP a group of cosplayers have going on our discord server.<br/>I'm mostly posting for my own fun, and as I am playing 'BloodHunter' (Mollymauk) I have to edit everything to be from just his point of view.<br/>This is a MafiaAU so there WILL be violence, drug use, booze, sex etc.<br/>Nothing too explicit though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blood.<br/>
Chapter 11, Leviathan.<br/>
...</p><p> </p><p>   “After everything you said about him!”</p><p>“Lucien, please. Get over yourself. I can make my own decisions.”</p><p>“Can you both shut the fuck up?! I’m havin’ my fuckin’ arm put back in the sockEETTTTT!” There was a grinding pop, as Mol shrieked.</p><p>  “Just leave him like that, it might teach him a bloody lesson!” Avantika snapped.</p><p> Caduceus tucked his hair behind an ear, and sat back in front of Molly, checking over the repaired arm.</p><p>“My apologies, there is no real fun way to do that.”</p><p>  Molly liked Caduceus. He was tall and broad but in a giant teddybear way. He always placated Molly’s wish to be cuddled after a particularly bad patching-up, always had a pocket full of sweets and the previous year he had consented to allow Molly to dye his long thick hair pastel pink. Molly had been delighted when Cad had kept the colour, and the medic had been equally thrilled at Mollys pleasure. </p><p>“Thanks, Cad. You’re amazing.” Molly mumbled, as Caduceus smiled warmly and stood up.</p><p>Both twins needed attention. Each was bleeding and battered. Lucien had insisted that Caduceus see to Molly’s arm first, while he and Avantika bickered. But Molly pressed Cad to tend to Lucien straight<br/>
afterwards. All Mol needed was some bandaging and mopping up, which he was determined to do himself.</p><p>   “What did I tell you about staying out of shit, Lucien? You’re really going to ask what I’m doing with him, when you’ve called for OUR help cleaning up this mess?!”<br/>
Avantika was fuming to the very tips of her red hair.</p><p>“Ti-“</p><p>“How dare you say I don’t care, when I’m here to scrub this bloody FLOOR because of YOU and your IDIOT brother!”</p><p>Avantika was the least dressed-up Molly had ever seen her. Clearly she had been expecting an evening of staying at home on the sofa curled up in front of a movie, because she was wearing shorts and what looked unmistakably like a pyjama top. She had arrived bedecked in disposable rubber gloves and dragging a bucket filled with something that smelled horrendous. </p><p>“And YOU!” She rounded on Molly where he sat, nursing his arm. “I might have known all of this would be your fault! You’re a walking disaster! And now I’m another part of your cleanup crew!”</p><p>   STAMP</p><p>Avantika struck down once.</p><p>“OWWWWWW!!!!! FUCK YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH!!”</p><p>Avantika raised her heeled boot off Molly’s hand and stormed away towards her bucket, sloshing the contents over the floor and muttering darkly under her breath as she reached for a mop.</p><p>Lucien approached her, saying things Molly couldn’t make out over his own shouts of pain. Caduceus stood back, waiting for Lucien to finish.</p><p>“Get fucked, Lucien! Before I ram this up your bloody a-”</p><p>“SHUT UP!” Molly felt sick. A wave of panicked nausea swept through him at the very idea. And her threat had exactly the same effect on the younger twin. Lucien reeled and hung his head, turning back to Caduceus who began to dab carefully at his injuries. Though both twins knew, the real hurt was invisible to everyone else in that office.</p><p>   “Yes. Everyone shutting up would do this situation the world of good.”<br/>
A new voice came from the door. </p><p>It was accompanied by a new face. A new man.</p><p>   Uk’otoa stood watching them all, an expression on his face that was quite impossible to read.</p><p>So this was the man Avantika had gone back to. The man now in business with Lucien. The man who was here to clean up for them, at a price Molly could never hope to guess. </p><p>He stood tall, as tall as Caduceus even. The twins were nearly a head beneath his chin, which was clean shaven with high cheekbones up to rich golden eyes. They bore like honeyed beacons across the scene before him, stopping everyone in their tracks.</p><p>“Right then.”</p><p>Uk’otoa walked steadily into the office. Every step was slow, determined, meaningful. </p><p>Molly watched and could do nothing else.</p><p>   Slowly, everyone fell about their business. Caduceus tried to sit Lucien down but he refused to be seated, so they stood in the far corner while the calm pink-haired medic got to work. </p><p>Avantika, tutting and muttering the entire way, began to get rid of the blood on the floor.</p><p>Uk’otoa knelt to examine Lorenzo’s body.</p><p>Molly rubbed at his fingers, certain they must have been broken under Avantika’s heel.</p><p>  A moment later he was startled by a great shadow leaning over him. Uk’otoa had finished looking over Lorenzo and moved to Molly. His shirt was a crisp clean deep navy. His slacks were pressed. His shoes shiny. Molly stared up through damp mascara’ed lashes at the man now crouching in front of him. Uk’otoa must have been pushing into his early 40’s. There were grey streaks running through silver hair, and a crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Molly wondered if they were laughter lines. Molly wondered if such a man could ever laugh.</p><p>   Uk’otoa spoke, but Molly missed the words. Evidently this was what Uk’otoa had expected, because he called over to Caduceus, who handed him a roll of fresh bandages. Uk’otoa sat down, and instructed Molly to remove his shirt.</p><p> “Tease.”</p><p>   His cheek got him no response. Molly obliged instead, and stripped off his shirt, letting it fall beside him. He was only just noticing how tired he was. The panic, the rage, the sorrow and hurt and fighting had all spurred him through, riding the wave of adrenaline. But now he had time to sit back... Molly was exhausted.</p><p>   “Why you helpin’?” Mol asked weakly, as gold roamed across his skin.</p><p>“Maybe I am something like a guardian angel.” The low, steady voice replied.<br/>
Firm hands gripped at Molly’s arms. He looked down and met a stony glare. Uk’otoa was rubbing a thumb across the purple track-marks down Mollys right arm. A gasp escaped Mol as he winced, trying to pull away, but Uk’otoa held tight.</p><p>Those honey eyes found the tremble in the tips of Mollys fingers, the grooves of nails in skin, the grey tinge behind crimson iris’s. And something burned inside the gold now. Molly could feel it radiating onto him. Hate. Hate and disgust and vile loathing towards Molly and every ounce of his being.</p><p> </p><p>*He knows.*</p><p> </p><p>   Uk’otoa leaned in closer, starting to wrap the bandaging around Mollys arms.</p><p>“Withdrawal is a bitch.” He spoke it like a fact, not a judgement. </p><p>Somehow that worried Molly even more.</p><p>“You come to ogle have you? I ain’t no pity parade.” He snapped.</p><p>“Well,” Uk’otoa spoke as though Molly had never made a sound. “The good news is that once you’re on the bottom, life is one big come-up.”<br/>
He moved to Mollys other arm, bandaging with a critical eye over every inch as he went.</p><p>Mollymauk did not speak again. He watched Uk’otoa patch him up, even carefully tying bandages around his sore fingers. It made him uneasy. He felt exposed, examined, intruded-upon.</p><p>All the while, the man stared daggers at each and every sign of using on Molly’s body.</p><p>   Consciousness was tricky to hold onto.</p><p>Eventually, Mollymauk succumbed and fell into cold darkness. </p><p> </p><p>Down.</p><p>Down.</p><p>Down...</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>   When Molly opened his eyes, they were in a car. The windows were all tinted black, showing a view of rain-washed Nicodranas streets. Lucien was in the seat beside Molly, he was saying something about getting home to Caleb. How he must be worried sick.</p><p>The car pulled up outside the casino and Lucien got out with Uk’otoa. Luc thanked Avantika, who was in the driver’s seat. She shot him a sideways look but did not say anything. Then Lucien offered<br/>
Uk’otoa a hand. </p><p>“Thank You. You saved our asses.” </p><p>Uk’otoa shook hands, saying calmly,<br/>
“All part and parcel of our partnership, Lucien. I have no doubt that you will both repay me some day.”</p><p>“Luc...” Molly struggled to sit upright as Uk’otoa opened the back door this time, and got in beside Molly.</p><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Mol.” His brother called as the door began to close.</p><p>“Wait, what? No! I’m coming in too!”</p><p>But Lucien did not hear Molly. He waved in the general direction of the back seat as the car pulled away again. The dark windows masking the shock and confusion on the older Tealeaf’s face.</p><p>He grabbed for the back of Avantika’s seat,</p><p>“Where’re you takin’ me?”</p><p>“It’s probably a little late for that question.” An arm rested around Mollymauk’s shoulders.</p><p>Molly was weak. Weaker in that moment than he had been in a long time. Crashing and withdrawing, beaten within an inch of his life. </p><p>Uk’otoa pulled Mollymauk in, pinning him against a sturdy bicep.</p><p>  “I wanna go home.”</p><p>“Not now.”<br/>
Fingers pinched at Molly’s nose. He coughed, but could no longer move, clamped tight against Uk’otoa. Another hand came out of the darkness, plastering across Molly’s mouth. </p><p>  Choking.</p><p> </p><p>   Choking on no air.</p><p> </p><p>No air.</p><p>         Mollymauk could not breathe.</p><p> Through the fog racing into his mind, Molly thought how well-practiced Uk’otoa was at this. He wondered vaguely if the man did it often.</p><p>   “What did you tell Lucien?” Avantika’s voice swam around the car. Molly tried to catch it, but his lungs burned in his chest.</p><p> “That it was all a bit much and Mollymauk asked to stay with a friend. By the sounds of it, the only friend he’s got is his dealer judging by the look Lucien gave me.”</p><p>“Sounds about right.”</p><p>  “Fnnhhgggg!! Mfragghh!”</p><p>   The last moments of life Mollymauk had were fighting, flailing, desperately kicking out at the hands clamped firmly over his face, fighting to take a gasp of breath back into his body.</p><p>   Then he was falling again.</p><p> </p><p>Down.</p><p> </p><p>Down..</p><p> </p><p>Down...</p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>   Mollymauk woke up on something flat but soft. He screwed his eyes shut against a fresh wash of hurt slowly buzzing through him. Everything hurt. Every part of him wanted to die. </p><p>“Whaathh...?”</p><p>He tried to get up but his hands were fastened tight behind his back.</p><p>“Luc?! Yash?!” He rolled over and blinked red eyes open.</p><p>“Thhhee.... Fuck is this?!” He groaned, seeing the face of a man he recognised sitting on the other side of a small room in the dim light.</p><p>  The room swayed, and Molly swallowed back bile.<br/>
Then again the floor rocked. Motion after motion, rhythmic, unending. They were in the bowels of a ship at sea.<br/>
Molly’s first guess was Avantika. The Squall Eater. That’s where he must be. But it didn’t look like any of the rooms he’d seen on his break-in.</p><p>  There were no windows down there. The room was all bare walls except for two doors. One up a short flight of steps, and one half-open leading to what looked like a bathroom. There was a round pane of glass in the centre of the floor, but whatever was beneath it was too dark for Molly to make out just yet.</p><p> “A room.” Uk’otoa answered Molly bluntly. The man set down the book he had been reading, and stood up. “Or did you mean the zipties?”</p><p>Molly tugged and heaved at the thick plastic taught at his wrists, but it gave no quarter. </p><p>   “Fuckin’ right the zipties!!” He spat through gritted teeth. “The fuck is this?” He demanded. “Where are we?! Where’s my brother?!”</p><p>Panic and rage smashed into each other.</p><p>“If you hurt him, I’ll KILL YOU motherfuckin’ fuck!”<br/>
Kicking and struggling did nothing, Molly remained on his side.</p><p>   Uk’otoa stood where he was, slowly crossing his arms as he watched Molly, with an eyebrow raised.<br/>
Then he bent to pick something up out of the shadows. A large grey bucket. The man crossed the room in three slow strides, setting it down next to the pile of blankets Molly was sprawled out on. </p><p>  A gruff sigh as Uk’otoa knelt down.</p><p>  “If I hurt your brother.” He growled low. “There’s nothing you could do about it high off your ass.”<br/>
A hand, too hot, much too hot against Mollymauk’s shivering skin, reached out and pressed his chin up so that crimson shot eyes met steady gold.<br/>
“But we’re going to fix that.”</p><p>Molly snarled.<br/>
“I can do a lotta things high off my ass. More’an folks give me credit for.” He glared up at Uk’otoa as his face was tipped upwards. Then more of the mans words penetrated his brain. “Fix..? Fix what?”</p><p>“Oh I know exactly what you’re capable of.” The words hissed through the dark room, snapping through Molly’s ears. “You HIGH caused me a great deal of unnecessary fucking trouble, Mollymauk Tealeaf.” </p><p>The amount of strength behind the mans hold on Molly’s chin was far more than he needed. But some form of pleasure seemed to be drawn from it, as Uk’otoa continued to lift until Mol felt his elbows scrape the blankets.</p><p>   “This is the start of a very long week for you, sweet Molly. I hope you like bottled water and saltine crackers.”</p><p>   *Sweet Molly...* Gods, Uk’otoa sounded so much like Lorenzo it made Molly shake. </p><p>“The FUCK did I do to you?!” He yelled, trying to cover the bolt of fear sweeping him up.</p><p>Uk’otoa seized the front of the hoodie, drawing Molly up to meet him nose to nose. (It was only then, in that moment, that Molly slowly began to register that he was no longer in his own clothes.)</p><p>  “What did you do?!” The man roared. “You managed to sabotage my fucking operation!”<br/>
The rage boiling behind those honey eyes swelled and dipped as Molly fell backwards, dropped down onto the blankets.<br/>
“You’re already in pain. There’s nothing worse I could do to you than that. Except...”<br/>
A flash of fire rippled through gold. “Except MAKE you FEEL it like the rest of us.” </p><p>“Wh..?”</p><p>“You are getting clean, ‘Bloodhunter.’ Whether you like it or not. Do something about it.”</p><p>Clean? Clean? Fuck no, that couldn’t mean what Molly thought. Could it? No. No fucking way.</p><p>But then something else crept in.</p><p>   “Your operation? Wha..? You worked with Lorenzo?! Fuck that bastard! You worked with that sicko?! I dated that fuck! He kept me fuckin’ prisoner! He r- He ra- he...”</p><p>But Molly couldn’t say it. Not out loud. Not to anyone. Not even himself. It disgusted him how much he had let that man do.</p><p> “No fuckin’ way am I sorry for killin’ that FUCK! He can rot in HELL!!”<br/>
Molly felt a slither of pride as he glowered up at Uk’otoa, because the man actually flinched. Visibly, clearly flinched with an expression of disgust.</p><p>  “Uhg. I am not sure why hearing that from the source makes your taste in men so much more nauseating.” </p><p>“Good thing you ain’t my type then.”</p><p>  “I assure you, I would stick my dick in an electrical socket before I put it anywhere near you.”<br/>
Fingers pressed against thick lips as the man eyed Molly. “None of that sounds like my problem. What IS my problem, is my murdered mover.” He toed the bucket closer to Molly. </p><p>“The fuck are you DOIN’ to me?” Molly felt a trickle of real panic.</p><p> Uk’otoa seemed to relish that.<br/>
“You might want to calm down. The first step is puking your guts out.”</p><p>   “Why?! Why you doin this?!”<br/>
The horror of what this man was planning began to sink in. Molly was shaking worse than ever. How many days had it been now? Too many.<br/>
“The fuck does it matter to you?”</p><p>It was coming. He could feel it. His empty veins were throbbing, crying out. Molly was crying with them. They screamed out for more. He needed it. He wanted it. His head was a whirl, his ears ringing. </p><p>Thump thump, thump, thmp thumpthumpthumpthumppppppp</p><p>Heartbeat racing. Stomach turning over and over and over. </p><p>Knots in his guts.</p><p>Molly would be chucking up soon. It was starting.<br/>
He felt a lurch and pitched forwards, gagging. But choked it back, and rocked up on one elbow to face his captor.</p><p>   But for the first time, Uk’otoa was not looking back at him. He had turned to root around in a bag on the far side of the room.<br/>
Molly pushed and heaved, kicking his knees out and finally, finally was able to stand.<br/>
Although he was shaking from his chattering teeth to the tips of his fingers, still he stood.</p><p>Then, Molly charged.<br/>
He knocked straight into Uk’otoa sending them both flying. </p><p>“The fuck?!” Hands grabbed for Molly.</p><p>   Uk’otoa was much stronger than Molly had given him credit for, soon the smaller man found himself flung aside, shunted by a broad chest. </p><p>A knocking came from the door up the stairs.</p><p>“Uh, boss? You have a phone call.”<br/>
It wasn’t Avantika, as Mol had expected. This was another woman. But right at that moment Molly didn’t care.</p><p>  “I’m fucking BUSY!” The strangled shout came from off to Molly’s left as a shoulder pinned him firmly against the wall. </p><p>“Let me OUT!” Mol screamed, batting at the mans chest with his forehead, hands flailing helplessly behind him. But he stopped when he was flipped over onto the floor again, landing with a jarring thunk to the stomach.</p><p>   *Oh gods.*</p><p>*Oh gods, I’m gonna hurl...*</p><p>Molly scrambled to his feet and staggered towards the bathroom, forgetting where on earth the bucket might be, and wanting as much distance as possible between himself and Uk’otoa.<br/>
He tripped down over the toilet and retched until he was violently sick.</p><p>   As he knelt, swaying, Mol caught his cheek on the cold porcelain. </p><p>Cold.</p><p>Cold was good.<br/>
He coughed into the toilet bowl, laying on it like a pillow, taking slow shallow breaths.</p><p>This hurt.</p><p>He couldn’t do this.</p><p> His eyes were playing tricks on him in the lights. Every damn time. Every damn time.<br/>
Lucien stood somewhere ahead of him, out of reach. The floor speckled with pearls of deep red.</p><p>   Molly groaned.<br/>
Cold. Cold was good. Kept him grounded. Kept him there. In the present. He could feel himself burning up. Hotter than hell fire. Sweat soaking through the hoodie, down his back, through the track pants.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>*Why am I dressed like a fucking chav?* Molly tried to ask, but the thought was stuck in his mind.<br/>
Half dazed, he felt calloused fingers brushing across his forehead. Molly jumped, but the fingers merely pulled his hair back and scraped a band softly through the violet curls, taking it all into a ponytail off his face. </p><p>Molly could burst into tears. But he held on. He did not want to break down in front of this man.</p><p>“Wha.. wha’d... you want from me?” He whispered.</p><p> Uk’otoa leaned over Molly to hit the flush. </p><p>“For you to sit here and be sick, until you’re not sick anymore.”<br/>
It was a simple answer. But it still filled Mollymauk with dread.</p><p>  “Why?” He breathed. “Why’s is matter to you? Jus’ lemmie be, lemmie do whatever. Is nothin’ to you. Or is watchin’ folks throw up the way you always deal with ‘em when they kill your movers?”<br/>
Molly choked and chucked up again. His muscles were aching. Every stitch, bruise and healing wound was burning his insides. But his skin felt cold. His organs were on fire beneath a layer of ice. </p><p>“Fhhhuuckk...” </p><p>He hated this.</p><p>He did not want this.</p><p>Every bad though was rising to the surface to taunt him. Every mistake, every hurt, every mess he’d made.</p><p>“Lemmie go...”</p><p>“I’m not one for traditional punishment.” There was a laugh hidden somewhere behind those words. “And if you get any more big players killed, without my help someone will find you. Which means they find Lucien.”</p><p>  That hit Molly like a house dropping on him, even through the haze rippling through his body.</p><p>“No. Not Luc. I’d do anythin’, always. Always anythin’ for him.”</p><p>“Is that so? Do you really mean that, or is this another tweaked out lie you like to tell yourself to make yourself feel better?”</p><p>Molly jerked up.</p><p>“The FUCK did you say to me?!” He had a dribble of spit on his chin and a spring of fresh tears threatened to burst from red stained eyes. “The FUCK you say to me?!”<br/>
He didn’t care his hands were tied. He didn’t care that he could barely hold his head straight. He didn’t care that he was a shivering sweaty wreck. He didn’t care that he had no hope in hell of fighting this man. Mollymauk was angry. “Some TWEAKED OUT LIE?!” He repeated. “He’s my fuckin’ brother! My TWIN brother! My other half! I’d do anythin’ in the damn multiverse for him! Anythin’! It don’ make me feel better, is just TRUE!”</p><p>He was swaying as the ship rocked on the water. And from the withdrawal shakes. But Molly stared the other man down with a passionate glare.</p><p>   “The quit feeling sorry for yourself and GET CLEAN!”<br/>
The mans own shout seemed to have startled Uk’otoa. There was a second on his face as golden eyes widened, before settling back into a steady narrowed beam. </p><p>“Because until you do, it IS a lie.”</p><p>    The swish of a small blade.</p><p>    A snap sounded. Molly felt his hands freed from the zipties and grasped immediately for the toilet rim.</p><p>Uk’otoa was on his feet.<br/>
“Just another lying user, waiting to screw-over everyone he claims to love. Welcome to The Leviathan, Molly. You’re stuck here until you get clean.”</p><p>The bathroom door slammed shut, and Molly was left alone.</p><p>...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Red and Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>.</p>
<p>“What’s happening, Molly?”</p>
<p>Soft.</p>
<p>Something soft under him. </p>
<p>Molly heard Uk’otoa but didn’t register the question.</p>
<p>“He’s gone...”</p>
<p> Lucien’s shirt was black. Black like a scab forming around the crust. Bubbling boiling edges of the crater in his chest. There he lay at Mollys feet, pouring blood over the tangle of blankets, over Mollys skin, over Uk’otoas shoes.</p>
<p>“Who’s gone?” Uk’otoa couldn’t see. No one could really see.</p>
<p>Lucien Tealeaf was dead, and there was nothing Molly could ever do about it. Empty eyes glowed up at Molly from the floor, swamped in blood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter references character death, and blood.</p>
<p>Nothing too graphic, but read with caution if any of that could be triggering for you. </p>
<p>.</p>
<p>As Bloodhunter continues to get clean, he leans into his music more. So each chapter from now on will have an assigned song.</p>
<p>This Chapter's song is 'Brother' by Falling In Reverse.</p>
<p>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blood.<br/>
Chapter 12, 'Red and Dead'<br/>
SONG- ‘Brother’ by Falling In Reverse.</p>
<p>    <em>Why is it always stormy weather?<br/>
And, brother, tell me if it all gets better<br/>
Why did you leave? Why did you die?<br/>
You finally made your brother cry<br/>
I know you're watching over us tonight<br/>
And I hope you're watching over us tonight...<em></em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly was running.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The storm was exploding all around Nicodranas. Everything was soaked with tears.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>On he ran.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc had called. Molly had picked up to rain and fading breathing. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“LUC?!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He never knew how he had found his twin so fast. Their phones always shared their locations with the other, but this side of the city was a maze. The dot pinged, but could be anywhere.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>There was no time.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“LUC?!?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>  Mollymauk was frightened. Everything was abandoned at Lorenzo’s flat. He didn’t care anymore.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>This was it, he was out. He was done. Gone and gone and gone. The bastard could keep his shit, Molly wanted nothing but his brother.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>  “M... M....Mo...Mol....”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The older Tealeaf twin splashed down the alley, lit only by the glow of Lucien’s cell phone. It shone feebly into the dark storm.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh fuck, fuck oh gods, oh gods. Luc, Luc I’m here, Luc!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly cradled his twin in his arms, tugging off his jumper and thrusting it hard against the horrible massacre of Lucien’s chest. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What... what happened..?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t know...” Lucien was so feint. Every breath dragged from blood-drenched lungs rattled his throat. “Was... head...ing... back... to ours... then... some guy... said my name... had a... I don’t... know... big... like a sword...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“A sword?! Fuck fuck fuck...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>  Molly pressed harder onto his twins chest. He tried not to look. Lucien was cracked in two. Cleaved in. Dug out in a slicing blow.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Hot blood pumped across Mollys hands.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   “No, no no no. Luc, no. No you can’t die. You won’t!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mol... I’m cold...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“No, no you’re fine. You’re gonna be fine!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Molly.” A solid palm was patting his back.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc...” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Come on, walk. Walk this way. I’ve got you.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Blood.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>So much blood.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>  Mol felt his mouth open to scream but nothing came out.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly was lost. Lost in a vision of swirling red, tainted with his brothers face. Paler than pale. Paler than Mollymauk, even. Drained and empty and gone. No light, no wicked grin. The last flicker dying in his arms. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Empty.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>That was all he’d seen in Lucien’s eyes the next time they met months later. Nearly two years. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Felt like decades. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Felt like seconds. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>No. Not this time. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Not his Lucien.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Not anymore.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>All gone.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Empty eyes looked on him as a stranger.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He’d ran and ran and ran and collided into nothingness.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk had never screamed so loud.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He never knew pain like it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien died twice to Molly.<br/>
Once in his arms in a washed-out alley.<br/>
Once in a hallway at the casino, stood right in front of him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly never knew pain like it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Stabbed, shot, hit by cars, knocked out... All Molly had taken over the years meant nothing. Nothing to that.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Scars fade.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>True hurt imprints the soul.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>That was his lot now, Molly supposed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He imagined his own soul, what must it look like?</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Scrawled all over with Lucien’s name. Etched into it like a knife in a school desk. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>  “What’s happening, Molly?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Soft.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Something soft under him. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly heard Uk’otoa but didn’t register the question.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“He’s gone...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em> Lucien’s shirt was black. Black like a scab forming around the crust. Bubbling boiling edges of the crater in his chest. There he lay at Mollys feet, pouring blood over the tangle of blankets, over Mollys skin, over Uk’otoas shoes.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Who’s gone?” Uk’otoa couldn’t see. No one could really see.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien Tealeaf was dead, and there was nothing Molly could ever do about it. Empty eyes glowed up at Molly from the floor, swamped in blood.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   “I lost... He’s forgot us...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien’s mouth filled with blood.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk screamed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The screaming stopped as suddenly as it began, when Molly doubled-up over the bucket and vomited hard. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fnnhhhnnkk...”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He was so done with this feeling. So done with the churning hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His stomach was empty.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>*Like Luciens eyes.*<em></em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>*He doesn’t know you*<em></em></em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>*Anymore*<em></em></em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>*He’s not yours*<em></em></em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>*He doesn’t care*<em></em></em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>*He’s not Luc anymore*<em></em></em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>*Lucien is dead*<em></em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>*Bet he wishes I was dead*<em></em></em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>*Bet I soon will be*<em></em></em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>   Molly pushed the bucket away and caught up huge great gulps of air.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Uk’otoa had sat him down and moved away.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Molly blinked away the blood from his eyes, trying to watch the man walking. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>   Practiced hands pulled up a handle, opening the glass circle in the middle of the floor.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Molly sat forwards, intrigued.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>The great man stepped down into another space, flicking on a light.<br/>
Molly shuffled closer, on his hands and knees. When he reached the edge, he saw down into a storage space. Perfectly round, with rings and rings of shelves. Bottled water, dry food, tins, there it all was. A few of the shelves were empty. It looked as though they had been cleaned out in a hurry. Dust still lay in lines where bottles must have sat originally. Molly wondered if Uk’otoa had moved a wine collection for fear of his prisoner getting hands on it. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>   As the man reached the bottom step and began picking boxes off a shelf, the idea came to Molly.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Gingerly, shivering fit to bust, he got to his feet and reached for the glass hatch.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>SLAM</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  Molly took off, pelting towards the steps. One two three, then hammered on the door, dragging and clawing at the handle, which mercifully, beautifully, magically- Opened!</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  “MOTHERFUCKER!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>The shout of rage followed Molly as he raced through the ship. Then-</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Lisa!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Shit. Molly had forgotten they weren’t alone.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>He careered around a corner, grabbing at the carpeted steps as he began to stumble up.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Yeah, Boss? What’s th- OUCH WHAT THE HELL?!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Shit!</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>A slap caught Molly straight across the jaw as he collided with the woman who could only be Lisa, halfway up the stairs.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“No you don’t! Get back here!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Molly pushed past, registering vaguely tanned skin and a brunette bob of hair.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  He crashed through another door, along a corridor and up more steps.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Then- Daylight!</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Yes!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  Mol flew down the hallway towards it, flinging open more doors by accident as he snatched at their handles to steady himself. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>A body was lying on the floor.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Eyes unfocussed. Pooling blood, chest split open almost carved in two.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Molly tripped and skidded to a stop.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“No... no no no...”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Mol dropped like a stone and grabbed for his twins body.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>It vanished.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“LUC?!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>He saw only blood as he crawled towards the slither of daylight up on deck.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  *</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Uk’otoa caught him up a few moments later.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  “You’re on the open ocean, Molly.” He warned.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Molly had managed to heave himself up onto the rail edging the deck.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>The day was cloudy and sullen. The water grey-tinged blue and foreboding. Land nowhere to be seen in any direction. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Uk’otoa approached slowly, as though Molly were a cornered wolf.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Just don’t do anything stupid.”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Fuck you man! I’m out! I’m out, I’m goin’ the fuck home!” Molly shivered as a cold breeze lifted from the surf below.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>A shape twisted into existence standing behind the man baring down on him.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Red stained eyes. Identical. Fixed on Mollymauk.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“I’ll find you.” Molly promised the shadow, then he jumped.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“Oh you dumb sonofobitch...”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Uk’otoa grabbed at Molly’s hoodie as he leapt from the railing. The tug sent the smaller man swerving sideways, which unfortunately dragged Uk’otoa further over the side...</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>And...</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>“OH YOU DUMB SONOFABITCH!”</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  The water was warmer than Molly had been expecting, if indeed he had been thinking ahead enough to expect anything at all.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>He shivered violently as he crashed into the waves, hitting shoulder first and twisting about as he went under.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em> The hand did not release his hoodie. Molly felt Uk’otoa land above him. The weight of the mans muscles sent him straight down after Mollymauk.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>  The world was quiet down there. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Only the swishing of water running by the ears, and distant muffled shouts from Lisa on the Leviathan. </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Red.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Red lights in the grey dark.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>Two red eyes.</em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>*Luc*<em></em></em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   The scrawny twin dove deeper, reaching, tearing at the water.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Red threatened to swallow him.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Swallow out the world.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Blood and red and blood.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   Heavy hands seized Mollymauk around the middle.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   Molly thrashed about, attempting to get away from Uk’otoas grip.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>The stronger man held on like grim death. Molly blinked salty stinging out of his eyes and saw the mans face rearing closer. Determinedly, slowly, Uk’otoa shook his head.<br/>
Molly was not getting away that easily.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Golden eyes seemed to shine bright fluorescent yellow in the murky water. Uk’otoa dragged Molly upwards, kicking towards the surface.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>  They broke it together, coughing and spluttering. Mollys head began to roll backwards.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>He stared unblinkingly at the clouds. So many shapes. </em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>The colours fractured amongst them. So pretty.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   *</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   Back on board, Uk’otoa seized Molly in a giant bear-hug grip and carried him downstairs again.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Molly struggled hard, but Lucien was fading away from him and even as he wrenched one hand free, reaching for his twin over Uk’otoa’s shoulder the red eyes and lilac hair were gone.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>“Noooo! LUC!”</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>The panic was building again. Agitation flashed through his brain like wild fire. Skips in time merged with the present. Mollymauk did not know which was which anymore. Back and forward, forward and back. He saw a door coming and latched onto it, grabbing and clutching, desperate. The itching in his skin dug so deep through his veins. So deep it hurt. It hurt it hurt.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>“IT HURTS!”</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Molly caught at the frame, but he was nowhere close to strong enough. Uk’otoa carried him as though he were nothing. Down again. Down into the depths of Hell.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   “What’s happening to Lucien?” The question was hot against Mollys ear.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Somewhere near the door to the room in the bowels of the Leviathan, Lisa called,<br/>
“All set!”</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>   The lock scraped behind them as the grappling pair came down the last steps.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>“Molly. Mollymauk? What is happening to Lucien?”</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>They were sitting now. Sitting on the blankets with the bucket nestled beside him again. A towel was wrapped close around Molly’s shoulders, and a heavy grunt indicated that his captor had sat back down opposite.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>Gold peered closely at Molly, who sat shaking, rocking back and forth.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>“Bring him back...” Sobs tore through his aching veins. “Bring him back you Raven bitch. You promised... You promised...”</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>The white mask hurtled towards him from the blackness.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>He owed her everything. Too late. Much too late.</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em>
                                <em>
                                  <em>
                                    <em>
                                      <em>
                                        <em>
                                          <em>
                                            <em>  ***</em>
                                          </em>
                                        </em>
                                      </em>
                                    </em>
                                  </em>
                                </em>
                              </em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Before the Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>..</p><p>Uk’otoa had a strong heartbeat. Steady and slow. Like a waltz in the snow.</p><p>Molly counted the beats. One two three, one two three…</p><p>He relaxed into the steady rhythm.</p><p>Luc was washing away in his arms, but he could hear Uk’otoas breathing.</p><p>Luc was a stranger staring at him like he was a madman, but he could hear Uk’otoas breathing.</p><p>“Luc isn’t Luc anymore.” Molly mumbled into the blood-soaked darkness. </p><p>Somehow, right there he was safer.</p><p>...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As Bloodhunter continues to get clean, he leans into his music more. So each chapter from now on will have an assigned song.</p><p>This chapters song is 'The Horror and the Wild' by The Amazing Devil</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 13- Before the Fall<br/>
Song- The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil</p><p> </p><p>   <em>You are the son of every dressing up box<br/>
And I am time itself<br/>
I slow to let you play<br/>
I steal the hours and turn the night into day<br/>
Think of all the horrors that I<br/>
Promised you I'd bring<br/>
I promise you, they'll sing of every time<br/>
You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child<br/>
Witness me old man, I am The Wild<em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Mollymauk. Mollymauk!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mol came back to the present with a start.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Whaaat?” He grumbled, the roar of aches all through his limbs redoubled now he was more focused. “Whadda you want?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Uk’otoa was sitting beside him on the pile of blankets. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The door was shut.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Locked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>There was no escape.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Eventually? I’ve got Jenga, but I don’t think you’d be up to that just yet.” The man said, with no trace of irony. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Honey gold eyes were raking Mollys face. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly did not have the energy to conceal anything anymore.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You want a piece of gum?” Uk’otoa offered. He seemed lost in his own thoughts as he did so, but the small packet was produced from his pocket and Molly could still taste bile on his tongue.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Sure…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Steady fingers placed the gum onto Mollys tongue. But those eyes were still searching his face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What’s going on?” The great serpent of a man asked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   The younger, thinner, paler man chewed the gum slowly. Tangs of fresh mint hit him like bullets and almost brought him lunging down over the bucket by their feet.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But it passed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Empty eyes swam just in the corner of his vision.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shook his head, trying to clear it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Was Luc dead? Again?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Or did he just not see Mol?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Where he stood.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Desperate and unknown.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He heard the question but did not really understand.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He’s gone.” Mol whispered, staring into Lucien’s empty gaze. “He forgot us. I lost everything.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Who is gone?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But of course Uk’otoa did not understand.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>How could anyone understand?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They had not seen.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They still didn’t see.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He should be glad.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He tried to be.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Even if it was just the shell, he still had his brother back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>And they had been getting better, so so much better recently. Lucien even tried their secret language. He’d been better.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly had been better.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They had been brothers again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was all a lie, wasn’t it?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It wasn’t really Lucien.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien was gone.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk was on his own.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Pretending.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Someone touched his face and Molly flinched away.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His heart was racing it would not keep still. He felt his throat tighten and hitch his breath into uneven gasps.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>An arm was around his shoulders. Guiding him. Laying him deftly against Uk’otoa. The man was wrapped in a towel. It scrunched at Mollys nose. Then more warm weight came. Another towel tucked in around Molly and he closed his eyes, burying his face into the mans chest. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What are you seeing, Molly?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Uk’otoa had a strong heartbeat. Steady and slow. Like a waltz in the snow.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly counted the beats. One two three, one two three…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He relaxed into the steady rhythm.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was washing away in his arms, but he could hear Uk’otoas breathing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was a stranger staring at him like he was a madman, but he could hear Uk’otoas breathing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc isn’t Luc anymore.” Molly mumbled into the blood-soaked darkness. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Somehow, right there he was safer.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But he didn’t know why.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Through the gloom, a voice came.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’re okay.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…With that shimmering thought flickering in his mind, Molly fell out of consciousness.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*** </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Mollymauk slept fitfully. Literally. Twice he’d woken up from some deep blackness filled with crimson rain, jolting half awake with sore limbs and a tightening in his stomach.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ow…” He whined, as he rolled over, all a tangle in blankets and towels.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Oh fuck. Fuck everything hurts*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Everything hurt now.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>This was too much.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Much too much.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swallowed hard.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He would burst open from the pain soon. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Imma throw up…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His first coherent thought of the new day.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly struggled onto his knees and looked around for the bathroom door through blurred spinning vision. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swayed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The ship rocked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollys stomach pitched and he turned paler.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Not on me you’re not!” Uk’otoa was awake in an instant, thrusting the bucket under Mollys nose and heaving himself around to rub circles into the mans back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly promptly threw up.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fhhuucckk…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted out. “How much longer you gonna keep me here?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Uk’otoas hand stilled in its gentle touch at Mollys back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’ve got at least 6 days left. And it is not about to get any easier.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“How d’you know so much about getting’ folks clean?” Molly moaned, clutching the bucket tight to his chest.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Because I’ve done this before.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Who-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But before Molly could ask, Lisa’s voice called down sharply from just outside the door.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Boss, we’ve got company!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   The hand at Mollys back shoved him aside as Uk’otoa rose to his feet.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Stay quiet.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   And in one flurry of movement the man was gone.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The lock clicked behind him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   The ship swayed. The waves crashed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The room in the depths rose and fell.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk held onto the bucket.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was a buoy keeping him afloat.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Slowly, he heard the chug of another engine. Another boat was approaching.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The idea of a rescue did not have time to cross his mind though.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Red eyes were wholly distracted by the pool of blood opening up the middle of the floor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Mol?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>‘Bloodhunter’ was curled in a ball. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mol?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He couldn’t move.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mol?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He still couldn’t catch his breath. Trickles of uncertainty were robbing his lungs. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was too hot.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But his stupid body was shivering.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was like the talking between his mind and the rest of his had glitched out. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He heard the voice.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…He heard the voice.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly rolled his head to look for his twin.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His nose was running. His eyes kept crying. He couldn’t stop them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc..?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Blood stained the floor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien was walking through it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It clung to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Mol? Yeah, it’s Luc.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He had that look.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As Lucien drew closer, rippling in his own blood.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*He doesn’t recognize me…*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>And never would again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Not a twin no more.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He could never leave Luc.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But they would never be the same again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Like a pane of glass forever between them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His lungs finally contracted as Lucien knelt down beside him, and Molly grabbed his first full breath in hours.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Was this why?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Was this why it all hurt?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He got his brother killed. Now he must pay.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It wasn’t just needing the drugs.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was his punishment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Molly. Hey, hey I’m here.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Hands hovered over his shoulders. Lucien seemed unsure what his touch might do.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s Luc. I’m here. I’m here.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly saw Lucien through smoke and noise.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Somewhere he could hear the carnival starting up. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Gustav was shouting their names.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mol was holding a trapeze. Luc hung in the air.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The crowd was cheering in a language Molly didn’t understand. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He reached for his twin in a bright red sea of sequins and Luc looked up through blank white empty eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly reached again, lunging for him, but Lucien fell into nothingness.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His fingers hit a knee.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mol, I’m right here.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Warm fingers laced between his.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly held on tight.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Used to be in a circus.” He whispered. “I’m sorry… msorry… mso so sorry…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Panic was crashing all around like an orchestra. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Bleeding</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Dying</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Running.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “We were, Mol. We were the best duo.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien sounded real. But how could he be?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Please, Mol. I need you to look at me.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Red stained eyes blinked in and out of focus as Molly tilted his head to look up at the man who had once been Lucien.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Twin stained eyes were dripping, leaking blood.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollys mouth opened but nothing came out.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Talk to me, Mol.” Lucien was soothing his silent screams. “Tell me more about the circus.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…Circus…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…Circus…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Clown smiles and jugglers filled the air. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We were flying. Luc, we could fly…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk shivered and rolled onto his back. His shoulders shook so much they kept bouncing off the floor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>One cheek was dribbled with sweat. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He burned.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We could fly.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He smiled deeply, searching for recognition in his twins face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Catching and falling and flying.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   A small smile spread across his twins face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Warm but cool hands held his own and stroked his face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We did. And we wore costumes of glitter. We’ll go back one day, won’t we.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>    A moment of calm struck Molly. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His heart was on pause, checking in with his brain on what to do.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The attack of terror was fading, just aftershock left.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His pulse vanished for a second or two.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But… but we’re here.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Best show of their lives. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly could see Lucien waving to the crowd. He held onto his twin, swinging them both around and around the big top. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The silks were shimmering glistening silver and gold.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They were the sun. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was the sun.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mol was the wind, blowing the clouds away, keeping the skies blue.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We are… We are.” Lucien cooed. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Comforting warmth moved to Mollys hair, stroking, pulling through tangled curls as gently as could be.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em> In a blaze of coloured lights, Molly spun faster and faster. He felt Luc’s hand in his hair as they hung upside down. Telling him he was there. He was safe. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His heart thudded suddenly fast and Mol sat up at once.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Imma throw up.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“HE HAS A BUCKET!” Uk’otoas voice rang out from the open door, and as the veil of glitter and lights dulled, Molly saw another face stood in the doorway.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Tall. Dark hair. Pretty eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Yash?*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The hands were gone but the bucket was passed to him and Molly felt his stomach contract, sending spasms bolting through his bones. He sat cross-legged, hugging it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Then</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The warm fingers were back, tracing lines through his hair, holding his shoulders.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien was wrapped around Molly from behind. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was not letting go.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m right here.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The sound of that secret language the twins had created as children flooded into Mollys mind.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was speaking it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was here.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was okay!</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Mol finished coughing over the bucket and leaned back into his brother. His head lolled back against Luciens shoulder and he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of the grey hoodie.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was so warm.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luc was warm too, but softer. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Solid.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Real.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’re really here..?” Mol asked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah, I’m really here.” Lucien rested his head against Mollys, pressing a kiss to a sweat-soaked forehead.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He get you too?” Mol asked faintly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No. I came to find you, Mol.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly trusted his brother unquestioningly, but he was afraid.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Gotta go, Luc…” He mumbled. “I wanna go home. Please, Luc? I wanna go away.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I know. I’m working on that.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Why? Why can’t we go right now?*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But… I need you to get better, Mol.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly pushed himself upright again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Better than this?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His head pounded.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Sure as shit I wanna get better, look at me!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly unzipped the hoodie but there was nothing underneath.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*The fuck are my clothes?!*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Let’s get you home.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly went with his twin willingly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Together they stood up and made their way up the steps into the light of the upper decks.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha pulled Molly into her side and held him firmly, helping him move, keeping him centered.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   As they reached the main deck, Lisa came into view. She stood with her arms folded, glowering at Molly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Uk’otoa was waiting by the gangplank, set between the Leviathan and the second ship which Molly realized he also recognized..</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The Squall Eater.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>That meant only one thing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Sure enough, there she stood. A burst of auburn hair and an expression which plainly said ‘Ha!’ Avantika was mid-conversation with Uk’otoa as the trio approached.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She smiled to Lucien, then Uk’otoa, then stepped back over onto her own ship.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Fuck I need a cigarette.” Molly grunted.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha squeezed him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You look a state, there’s probably a lot you need. A hot bath for one. And some  f-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck that.” Mol frowned, as they drew level with the hulking man who had kidnapped him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Need a pack of fags, a phone, my fuckin’ clothes! Gotta call Cree, gotta get… gotta get…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He trailed off as he gulped at the fresh open air. He still wasn’t quite back with the world yet.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien had moved away. He stood, hand outstretched towards Uk’otoa.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank You.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The two men shook hands.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shoved away from Yasha and stomped onto the Squall eater.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You got any fuckin’ cigarettes?” He demanded of Avantika.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Nope.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He might have imagined it, but he could have sworn she wore a look of gleeful enjoyment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fucks SAKE!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, cigarettes are not what you need right now.” Yasha had come aboard too.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No, what I really need is a bloody motherfuckin’ hit.” Molly snapped.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He didn’t mean to. Not really. Not at Yasha.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But she was there, and his insides hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   The woman said nothing more, and Molly looked over towards his brother, still stood with Uk’otoa.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He caught snippets of what they were saying.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I am not sorry for trying. I had hoped it might shock some sense into his system.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We were terrified. He vanished again and-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“And not a day later you were knocking at my door. Come, Lucien, you know if I wanted to make someone disappear I can. I would never have been so obvious.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I know this.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I tried. He didn’t want to, and now you found him so you can take him back. I wash my hands of the idiot. But if he so much as breathes near one of my runners-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He won’t. Nothing will be tampered with, I assure you. I will make sure our business is kept safe.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Uk’otoa looked over to where Mollymauk stood.<br/>
“Just, get him out of my sight.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ohhh so NOW you want rid of me?!” Molly yelled across the water.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK YOU MOLLY, I TRIED!” Came the response.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien reigned their conversation back,<br/>
“Look, Thank You for trying.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly didn’t listen to any more.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck you ALL!” He stormed away to the other end of the Squall Eater, glowering out over the waves.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to go home.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to snog Cree.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to shoot up and never feel this lousy ever again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He hurt. He hurt everywhere, and Lucien had THANKED the man who did it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>THANKED HIM!</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk did not speak to his brother all the way back to Nicodranas.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Molly for Molly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It bit.<br/>It bit harder than before.</p><p>Molly howled into Cree’s palm as she held his arm still.</p><p>“The fuck happened to you, babes? You’ve gone to shit.”</p><p>“Just… Just… Just get me high.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is basically all Bloodhunter (Molly) getting high,</p><p>No real descriptions etc, but there are references to drugs, booze and sex so y'know, read at your own peril etc.</p><p>...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 14:  Molly for Molly</p><p>Song- 'Died in Your Arms Tonight' by Cutting Crew</p><p>
  <em>It was a long hot night<br/>
She made it easy, she made it feel right<br/>
But now it's over, the moment has gone<br/>
I followed my hands not my head, I know I was wrong<br/>
Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight<br/>
It must've been something you said<br/>
I just died in your arms tonight<br/>
It must've been some kind of kiss<br/>
I should've walked away<br/>
I should've walked away<em></em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   *”We’re gonna light this room on fire,”*<br/>
*”You and I will burn it up tonight,”*<br/>
*”The two of us are gonna fuel this fire,”*<br/>
*”No way in hell we’re slowing down tonight!”*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Mollymauks bare feet were sticky on the dance floor.<br/>
His eyes half closed, drinking in the colours surrounding him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>This was living.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was sure he must be feeling alive again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No remembering.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No blood.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly swayed, buffeted this way and that as others moved around him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He’d stay here.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wouldn’t ever go back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A plastic cup was pressed into his hand.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cree looked like a dream.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Maybe he was dreaming.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He gulped gratefully at the liquid, letting the sparks slam into his throat and sizzle all the way down.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Baby, I found a guy. Says he’s got the good shit out back.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly downed his drink and dropped the cup.<br/>
“Let’s fuckin’ go!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>..</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It bit.<br/>
It bit harder than before.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly howled into Cree’s palm as she held his arm still.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The fuck happened to you, babes? You’ve gone to shit.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Just… Just… Just get me high.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>..</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   They pushed back into the overcrowded basement, through the mass of sweat-soaked bodies pulsing to the rhythm from giant speakers. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Everything was louder now.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As another song blasted the air, Molly found his fingers tapping along with the bassline. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He missed his bass.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>How long had it been since the last band practice?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>How long had he been buried in that boat?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A couple days, right?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He never thought to ask.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He hadn’t said one word to Lucien after he thanked Uk’otoa for fucking kidnapping him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>AND taking his phone.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>AND taking his clothes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>AND not giving them back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly was currently clad in an assortment of Cree’s things. A long patchwork skirt and a denim tank top.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He’d filled his wrists with dropped and discarded jewelry they had stumbled upon as the pair headed to the rave.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He felt better.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He did.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swore he did.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The grey hoodie was tied around his waist.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The trackpants had gone straight into a dumpster, but…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly couldn’t quite bring himself to part with the hoodie.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was the most comfortable thing he’d ever worn.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Plus now it was covered in body glitter, booze and burns.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He felt better.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He did.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swore he did.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swore it as he stumbled on the spot, whole body wrapped in the music.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He swore it as he watched dark dreadlocks sway over collarbones.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cree was beautiful.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>So fucking beautiful.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to plant flowers in her dreads. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Babe!” He reached for her, missing as the familiar daze coursed through his clammering veins.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Dance with me!” He called to her dark eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   She came to him and soon they were entangled in each other.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*”She said kiss me<br/>
It'll heal<br/>
But it won't forget<br/>
Kiss me<br/>
It'll heal<br/>
But it won't forget,”*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Inked hands clutched at sun-kissed cheeks.<br/>
Mol pulled in closer, breathing hot and heavy.<br/>
He needed this.<br/>
Needed her.<br/>
Cree tasted of absinthe and tobacco.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*”You should close your eyes<br/>
That blue is getting me high<br/>
And making me low<br/>
That blue is getting me high<br/>
And making me low,”*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cree was so gold it hurt his eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She shone like a disco ball. She was brighter than anything in the world.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Love you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Love you too.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>..</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>This was real love, right?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It had to be.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Nothing else made him light up inside.<br/>
Nothing except playing his bass for a crowd. Or being back in the circus.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cree made him matter.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cree got him higher than the fucking moon.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk knew this must be love.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It must be.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The music didn’t stop until sunlight began to filter through boarded up windows.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Nooo!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The party couldn’t end. Not now.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly almost felt himself again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Something wasn’t right but he took another pill and ignored it even as it hammered on his skull.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“C’mon. Let’s go to my room.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yours? Why not mine, babe? Won’t Lucien be pissed?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah. Exactly.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He pissed you off again?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about him.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Alright babe, let’s go then.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   The casino was quiet in the early morning light.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly pulled Cree through the doors, and across the main floor.<br/>
Stopping only to grab a bottle from behind the bar, he punched in the code to get upstairs and they fell into an elevator. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Fancy ass place you got, baby.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mhmm…” Mollys tongue was in her mouth.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted her.<br/>
Badder than he ever wanted anything before.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It really hit you tonight, didn’t it?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Uhuh.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You not used all this time or something?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Nope.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Shit babes, why not?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“They tried to make me quit.”<br/>
Cree drew Molly to her again at that, pressing him up into the glass of the elevator walls.<br/>
“You wanted to?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   He needed her. He needed the high. He needed to forget.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No.”<br/>
Molly kissed her. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He kept on kissing her until, with a *ding*,* the elevator deposited them on his floor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Room 26 was the same as ever.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Chaotic and messy.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Thin strips of light pierced through the many stickers and posters Molly had stuck over the window, giving the space an odd glow. Like being inside a kaleidoscope. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Music.” He mumbled, staggering over to his stereo, chucking in the closest CD and slamming a finger onto the Play button.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His favourite mix tape started blasting.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*”Fire in the disco!<br/>
Fire in the Taco Bell!<br/>
Fire in the disco!<br/>
Fire in the gates of hell!<br/>
Don't you wanna know how we keep startin' fires,<br/>
It's my desire…”*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly tore the lid off and lapped up whatever it was he had stolen from the bar.<br/>
The booze was clear, leaving an aftertaste that reminded him of cherry bakewells, but in his current state he couldn’t recognize what it was.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He neither knew or cared in that moment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“C’mere.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As they sank onto his bed, Mol poured a glug into Cree’s mouth. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She giggled loudly, and Molly laughed too.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*I’m happy.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*I AM.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*I am.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Cree was sliding her own clothes off of Molly, nails digging into his skin as the skirt was tugged away.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was laughing again, growling, gasping for breath as they descended deeper down their own rabbit hole.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   He was flying.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Flying.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He’d flown before.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He could fly with Cree.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Not high enough.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Need another.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Need another.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Need another…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Open wide baby.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Pills on his tongue.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Fire.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>On fire again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>How could anyone want him to leave this?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to fly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He could fly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Fuck Cree felt good.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fhhuuuckkk!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Louder, baby!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“FHHUUCKK!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck the whole fucking place up!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   What else could be such bliss?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Every colour was smashing around him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Every sense was tearing into shreds.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was breaking apart.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK, BABE IMMA- IMMA-“</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “MOLLY WHAT THE FUCK?!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK LUC FUCK OFF!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I will not. What the fuck are you doing? It’s 6 in the fucking morning!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Mollymauk let go of Cree, and sat back on his knees.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The fuck does it look like I’m doin?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Shitty porn.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck you. Hey!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien had unplugged the stereo at the wall.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The room fell quiet.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly. How high are you right now?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The older Tealeaf brother blinked lazily at his twin.<br/>
“Been higher.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What did you take?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Everythin.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, what did you fucking take?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The usual.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Dope?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yuh.”<br/>
“What else?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mol ran his tongue across his teeth and snorted.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly for a Molly.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Right. And then you decided to come back here and wake up two floors of my customers?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Can’t hold the party down, brother.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t call me that right now, Mol.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Just, don’t. Right now I don’t even want to look at you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The fuck?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I want you out.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Out. Now. Get out.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But, Luc-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No. Get out of my home. Now. Take your dealer girlfriend and get out.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No. I’m ‘Peacock,’ to you right now. You’re not my goddamn brother while you’re like this.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien stepped back out of the doorway.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’ve got five minutes. Take your shit, take your doped-up ass and get the fuck out.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly sat on the end of his bed and stared at Lucien.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He couldn’t feel the blissful euphoria anymore.<br/>
Everything was slipping away.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to beg for another chance.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to run and hug Lucien.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But then Molly thought of Luc thanking Uk’otoa, and most of his desire to makeup dwindled.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He grabbed a handful of clothes, his bass and lead Cree into the corridor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck you.” Molly snarled as he passed his twin.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien said nothing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He just watched the pair until they reached the stairwell. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Cree turned towards the elevator doors, but Molly dragged her through the double doors to the staircase.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He couldn’t stomach the idea of a tiny enclosed box.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Suddenly the idea of being in that lift felt like digging his own grave.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   So, down they walked. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Down, down and down.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Then out into a new day dawning over Nicodranas.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…”<br/>
Molly tugged the hoodie closer around him as he took another two steps up the driveway.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Then turned on the spot and took another 5 steps back again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was exhausted, he was hungry. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But he couldn’t think of what to say.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His feet carried him a little closer to the long dark building.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Maybe I should’ve just gone with Cree.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly turned again and began walking back towards the road.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But no.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He stopped.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly didn’t want to go with Cree.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Once his delirium had worn off, so had his desperate longing to be wrapped up in her.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She felt much the same way, it seemed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They had parted ways at the first set of traffic lights, with a brief kiss and that was it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She had friends and a squat to return to.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly had nothing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Nothing, except…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He turned once more and marched all the way up to the front steps, past the familiar feathered sign.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   ‘Raven Funeral Directors.’</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Well, really. Where else was he going to go?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Please?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>.</p>
<p>*What’s wrong with me?*</p>
<p>The question was seared through his mind. A great haunting mass unwavering, driving his desperation.</p>
<p>The music didn’t do it.</p>
<p>The high didn’t do it.</p>
<p>The fucking orgasm didn’t do it.</p>
<p>*Am I stuck like this? Am I broken?*</p>
<p>And then, the thing Mollymauk dreaded drifted across his thoughts as innocently as a leaf caught in a summers breeze…</p>
<p>*Was Uk’otoa right?*</p>
<p>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>.<br/>This chapter has a bunch of references to s3x, addiction and drug-use. As always- nothing too explicit, but be aware before reading.</p>
<p>Mollys song for this part of the story is: 'Lead Me Out of the Dark' by Crown The Empire</p>
<p>.<br/>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 15- Please?</p>
<p>Song: 'Lead Me Out of the Dark' Crown The Empire</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm moving on, I'll promise change<br/>
If you will let me in again, I swear today<br/>
I'll be a better man<br/>
I'll be who I was then<br/>
It's been a long two years<br/>
I can't change the past<br/>
I've shed so many tears<br/>
Can't believe I've lasted this long<br/>
I see now that I'm wrong<br/>
The only way out of here<br/>
Is the way I've avoided for all my life</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You're the only one, please lead me out of the dark<br/>
Please lead me out of the dark<em></em></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>…</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Molly? What happened? Are you alright? Come in!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax was worried. Dark hair was tousled around tired grey-tinged eyes. Had he slept? He was wearing those long robes, but he didn’t look rested at all. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Gentle hands came to Molly, filled with care.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly knew at once that he did not deserve it, but the moment he had set eyes on Vax a roar inside him had begun to ignite.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Vax-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The roar was screaming for satisfaction.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, I-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But Molly had pressed their lips together.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh-” Vax remained where he stood, squeezing tight to Mollys hands as they kissed on.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Can I stay?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A hot, breathless whisper into Vax’s throat.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The door was kicked closed behind them.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes, always, an eternity of yes.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was ushered down the still, silent hallways.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The place was not even open for the day yet.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Is she up?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>They rounded a corner into a corridor lined with red roses.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Not for another hour. She will be pleased to see you.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>"Just us for a bit then, yeah?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax opened a narrow door at the far end of the hall.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Of course.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The bass was dropped by the foot of the bed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The clothes were scattered across the floor.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly seized a slender waist and pressed on.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax stumbled as he was knocked backwards onto his sheets.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly! Fuck-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck me.” Mol kissed the words into Vax’s mouth. “I need it. I need this.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He’d been so close.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>So close before Lucien interrupted.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>This had to be the way.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The way to feel good again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>To make it all go away.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Of course, yes, fuck-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Pale skin brushed with a subtle tan came free from the dark robes.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly wanted to lap up every inch.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He bathed in every catch of Vax’s breath. Every touch, every tingling movement under his fingers.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“M-Molly-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“C’mere.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Vax melded with him so easily.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>In no time at all, Molly was hitting his stride once more, in almost the exact same position he had been earlier on, when Lucien burst into room 26.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax was saying things.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Yelling things.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Biting words into Mollys flesh.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly closed his eyes, reaching for it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He could almost taste that euphoria again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It was so close.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It was all he needed to be real again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax could get him there.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax with his raven hair.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax with the eyes like misty diamonds.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax with lips matching his.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Vax…”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, I’m going to- I’m going to-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Red blotched eyes snapped open.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Gods Vax looked immaculate.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Every piece of him bare in thrills of joy.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly wanted it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted it so badly it hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*No.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*No, no hurt, no!*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It hurt.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It hurt and it blistered beneath his skin.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly howled, desperation clawing at his voice as he drove Vax on, harder. Blocking out everything in his head.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“FHHUUCCKKK!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly peaked and broke. Vax did the same and for one shining moment Molly thought his attempt had been successful.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The sensation fell all over him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But…</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCKS SAKE!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, what is it?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   He shoved the covers off his feet and stood up, raising his hands to his face, grunting in frustration.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Was it not good?” Vax sounded far away. And very small.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Not enough!” Molly wailed. “Not enough! I’ve tried everything! Fuckin’ everything! Nothing’s WORKING!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Vax was sitting on the edge of the mattress. The look he was giving Molly was heartbroken.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What are you trying to do?” He asked, calmly.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly turned in a circle, kicking his discarded jeans.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Feel fuckin’ GOOD again!” He raged. “But I can’t! Or I won’t, somehow!” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The bedroom door opened.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A beautiful pale face with ruby caressed lips appeared. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“This is rather loud for so early in the morning.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax lowered his head.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Sorry, my lady.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Pale blue eyes turned to Mollymauk.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“And what have you to say for yourself?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“FUCK!” Molly sank to his knees, biting his lip.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well, that certainly clears that up.” Lady Letherna scoffed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I am going to make breakfast. Join me, both of you. Perhaps dressed.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>She was gone in a swish of a silk dressing gown.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Vax looked down at the pile of clothes Molly had grabbed off his bedroom floor. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are any of those clean?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shrugged.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fuck it.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He dragged over the nearest pair of jeans and pulled them on.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The kitchen was bright and airy.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Marble worktops were shined clean, the stove was full of pans sizzling and fresh coffee sat in two mugs waiting for them.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly took a seat at the far end of the table, which ran nearly the full length of the room with seats enough for 12.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He held the steaming mug and stared down into it, saying nothing.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax greeted Letherna and took a chair halfway down the table. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He did not look at Molly.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tiny bubbles drifted to the surface of the coffee. Mol watched them swirl and pop, swirl and pop.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A plate was placed beside his elbow. Eggs, toast, bacon and beans wafted through Mol’s nostrils. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He gagged.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Not hungry this morning?” Lady Letherna asked, sitting down opposite Vax with her own plate.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shook his head, holding his breath to try and block out the smell.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well then, you can sit and talk to us while we eat.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Icy eyes surveyed him. They bore straight into his guts and Molly swallowed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*She knows.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Vax was picking at his own food. He kept repeatedly glancing up at Letherna, and Mol thought that he must be eating so that she would not be disappointed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A slither somewhere deep inside him wanted to do the same.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But he was too pissed off to allow that piece of him any heading for the moment.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He drummed angry fingernails on the coffee cup, grinding his teeth.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The room fell quiet as the other two ate.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Ticks sprang up throughout Mollys body.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His foot began to twitch, catching the corner of the table leg.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His fingernails tried to dig into the porcelain mug.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His jaw clenched and unclenched, a twinge with every grind of his teeth.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*What’s wrong with me?*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The question was seared through his mind. A great haunting mass unwavering, driving his desperation.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The music didn’t do it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The high didn’t do it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The fucking orgasm didn’t do it.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*Am I stuck like this? Am I broken?*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>And then, the thing Mollymauk dreaded drifted across his thoughts as innocently as a leaf caught in a summers breeze…</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*Was Uk’otoa right?*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Thankfully that idea had only a moment or two to toy with Mollys head before Lady Letherna set down her cutlery and spoke.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Come to me.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Two heads shot up at once.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The dark haired one was ready to stand, but Letherna was looking at the man with violet curls. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Here. Now, Molly.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   So he went to her. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He walked slowly, dragging his feet on the tiled floor.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>When he reached her, Molly stood beside the chair, gaze fixed on his hands.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Kneel.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly knelt.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Open your eyes properly.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lady Letherna pulled at his eyelids, leaning forward to inspect the blotched red.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Show me your arms.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“My Lady, please d-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Show them to me.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Molly held out his arms.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Letherna lifted them close.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>She looked at the jabs in the skin of his elbows.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>She looked at the newly bruised veins.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>She lifted her attention to Mollys face.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You cannot stay here.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“W-what?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You cannot stay.” Those ruby red lips repeated. “I will not have this in my home, nor my place of work. Whatever you are trying to get, you shall not find here.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly reeled.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“H-how did you know?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Know what?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m tryin’ to get… Tryin’ to feel it…”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What exactly are you trying to get, Mollymauk?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It was just a question, but it struck Molly around the heart with the force of a sledgehammer.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Better.” He whispered.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“We held you.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Letherna was rising from her seat.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“We held you in grief, and we released you into joy.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shuffled backwards as she advanced towards him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I did all that could be done for you, and believed we failed. We held you close. We let you grieve. We promised you safety. We were patient, the gods alone know just how very patient I was with you, Mollymauk. You were shattered into pieces but we would put you back together. We would have done all of that for you, but you ran. You ran back to the comfort of feeling nothing, of thinking nothing.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollys scrambling hands met stone wall.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He fell onto his back in the far corner of the kitchen.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax had not looked up from his plate. The empty fork spun circles between his fingers.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I released you, I allowed you to leave my sight.” Letherna hissed. “I understood what you were going through. I made allowances. A year you spent, driving yourself further into the ground. But still we were patient. We knew you must come back to us, we knew you would suffer the grief and return to the land of the living. But you persisted.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Silk brushed his toes.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lady Letherna crouched in front of Molly.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“When we got word that your brother was alive, after all that time, we rejoiced for you. I sent Vax to inform you, but you discovered the truth for yourself. Still, I let you be free. Joy at last, and I did not send for you. I believed that in reunion you may find peace and strength. I believed you would come to pay your due. I was deceived.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I… I…” Molly had no answer for her.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Another year I granted you reprieve. A year, I hoped, would be time enough to reforge yourself. I deluded myself once again, thinking that your brother –the one you claimed to us was the other half of your very soul- he would be the thing to shake the addiction away. He would be enough, surely. Lucien alive and well again should surely have been the thing to make you stop.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Letherna sighed deeply, and the sound brought pinpricks to the corners of Mollys eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“But, alas, once more, I was wrong. You have not resurfaced.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Pale fingers clasped his jaw.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You are drowning, Mollymauk. There is none to blame but yourself. You have everything you wished for and you spite us all with this!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A long nail poked sharply into the flesh of his elbow.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly yelped.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“And now the euphoria is wearing thin?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It was not a question she sought an answer to. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You shall not quench that thirst here, do you understand me?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly nodded.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The hand at his jaw tightened.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You shall not set foot in my domain again unless you are rid of it.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly blinked rapidly.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You shall not abuse my partner to satisfy an itch.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   A muffled sound rose from the other side of the kitchen.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Letherna did not look around, but Molly saw.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Vax had both of his hands clasped over his mouth. Red-rimmed eyes screwed shut. He was crying.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You shall not repay your debt like this. I will not accept it.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wait, no!” Molly struggled to sit up.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I release you from my service.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lady Letherna released him from her grasp also.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wait! Please, no! What about Luc?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What indeed.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The woman was walking away.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“No!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The silk robe beamed in the light, as an arm came to rest around Vax’s shoulders.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Leave, Bloodhunter. We no longer have business with you here.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was on his feet, trembling.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Please? Please, I have to repay you. I owe you my life, for his life. I owe you…”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes you do.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“But-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I told you to leave.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I wanna repay you!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Then return to us as a better man! One who is ready and able to work, to build, to earn the payment they give! Only then will I accept you here again! Now LEAVE!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   This time, Molly took only his bass and what clothes he was wearing.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The hoodie was all he knew, all that surrounded his fogged-out brain as he walked.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>And walked.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>And walked.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*Gotta save Luc.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*Gotta repay…*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*I owe my life for his.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*I gotta be better…*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Staggering revelers from the night before wandered drunkenly past as Molly came onto the main strip of the clubbing district.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Taxis honked and screeched past. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Broken bottles lay smashed on the path.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Someone was vomiting in the doorway of a bar.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly stood stock still and looked all around him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*This ain’t what I want.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He sniffed hard.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*This ain’t workin’…*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>His tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*I gotta get better.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But how?</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   Then it came to him.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The idea came shimmering into his head and hung there like a golden ticket to salvation.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly knew what he had to do.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   The casino was still quiet.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The lights were on but only a handful of punters were inside, all sat at their favourite machines, blank faces watching the numbers scroll by hand over fist.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly dragged his bass over the freshly cleaned carpet.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He spotted his twin sat at the bar, nursing a large brandy.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha stood sentry beside him, a hand rubbing one of Luciens shoulder blades.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly longed for one of Yasha’s amazing massages. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But that would have to wait.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>A lot of things would have to wait.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He had something to do now.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>   He trudged the last few metres and called out,</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“…Luc?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The younger twin turned at once.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Molly, I told you to-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I know. I know and I will but… I… I need to borrow your phone.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Twin pairs of crimson narrowed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Why?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Call someone.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Call who?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Can I just borrow it, please?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien blinked.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Please, Luc?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fine.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien held out the mobile to his brother.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thanks.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly took it, slinging his bass back over one shoulder as he stepped away from the two by the bar to flick through the Contacts list.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>*Bingo.*</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly hit Dial.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It rang.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It rang.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It rang.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Then-</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Lucien. To what do I owe-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“S’not Luc, is me.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Mollymauk?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Did you really know someone what was like me?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes. I did.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Can we try again?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What? I do not have the energy for this, Mollymauk.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Please? Please? I need to. I need to try again. You’re the only one. You’re it. You’re my last shot. Please? I need to get outta the dark.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>There was a very long, pronounced pause.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fine.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You mean it?!”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I will pick you up in twenty minutes.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m at the casino.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Twenty minutes.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank-”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>But Uk’otoa had hung up.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Your Own Two Legs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>.</p><p>   “You called Uk’otoa?!”<br/>Lucien’s question carried across the bar in bewildered anger.</p><p>“Yeah.” Molly mumbled, fiddling with a loose thread in the strap on his guitar.</p><p>“Why?!”</p><p>Yasha still had a hand on Luciens shoulder.</p><p>“Cause… Cause I…”</p><p>“Because what, Molly?”</p><p>The older twin shuffled his feet.<br/>“Cause he’s the only one what can help me.”</p><p>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No warnings for this chapter. It's Bloodhunter so as usual there are references to drug-use.</p><p>The song for this chapter is 'Saviour' by Black Veil Brides</p><p>.<br/>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 16: Your Own Two Legs </p><p>Song- ‘Saviour’ Black Veil Brides</p><p>
  <em>Remember as you learn to try<br/>
To be the one you love<br/>
So I can take this pen<br/>
And teach you how to live<br/>
What is left unsaid<br/>
The greatest gift I give<br/>
So hear my voice<br/>
Remind you not to bleed<br/>
I'm here<em></em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   …</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “You called Uk’otoa?!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien’s question carried across the bar in bewildered anger.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah.” Molly mumbled, fiddling with a loose thread in the strap on his guitar.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Why?!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha still had a hand on Luciens shoulder.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Cause… Cause I…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Because what, Molly?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The older twin shuffled his feet.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Cause he’s the only one what can help me.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Help? Molly, I don’t understand.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Nor do I, Luc! But today it all went wrong. I can’t get… I dunno how to…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*How to be happy*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*How to be your brother*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*How to be what everyone needs*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I need to do it properly. He’s the only one what can do it.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien stood up, slipping down from the bar stool and coming to his twin, touching Mollys cheek.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You wanna get clean?” He asked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly nodded.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien sighed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well, we’ve walked this road before haven’t we, Molly.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I mean it this time.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Luciens hand dropped as he snorted.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes and I’ve heard that before as well.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I mean it.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You said that at Christmas.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I… did?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yup. You said you were going to get clean, you promised us a whole day. One whole day with nothing. Christmas fucking day.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly watched his brother begin to pace in a slow circle around and around in front of him on the casino floor.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I decided to believe you. We all did. Caleb most of all. But then, he’d never seen you bullshit before so how could he know better?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollymauk’s stomach tightened.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Do you even remember Christmas dinner?” Lucien threw at him. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly stammered,</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I… I think so..?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What did we have then?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Uh…” Molly scrunched up his nose, trying to remember.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The casino was covered in tinsel and lights. Humungous trees stood in every corner of the main floor. The staff wore red and green.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Christmas songs played over the speakers.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He cast his mind further, upstairs. Up into Luciens apartment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Christmas… Christmas…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You had that reindeer thing. In the window.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien held up a finger.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well done, one point. How about more than that?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly chewed his liprings.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Uhhm… Caleb had a red jumper… with balls on.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Bells.” Lucien corrected.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ohh… Fuck okay… uhm…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What did we have for Christmas dinner, Molly?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   Lights shone, twinkling with the colours smudging the air. There was wine and wrapping paper all over the place.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was perched on the back of a chair at Luciens table.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Caleb had Frumpkin on his lap.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha was wearing a new perfume.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It filled Mollys lungs with vanilla.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien passed behind him, carrying a tray of… of…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Some bacony thing.” Molly muttered, closing his eyes, thinking back. “Like a big sausage roll but all out of bacon and summat else.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien had stopped pacing.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No. That’s what I made. What did we actually eat for Christmas dinner?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly frowned.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Whadda you mean? We ate that. I remember. Whole table was covered in stuff. Carrots and gravy and potatoey things.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien shoved him hard in the chest.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No, Molly! None of us got to eat any of that! You fucked everything up! You promised me one day! One day and you couldn’t even give me three hours!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I don’t…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“CREE, MOLLY!” Lucien roared.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Mollys eyes flew open.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Cree was there?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“YES!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was stunned.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I don’t… I don’t…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No, you don’t remember! Of course you don’t fucking remember!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha stepped in, gently pulling Lucien away from Molly and whispering something soft in his ear.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He needs to know.” Lucien growled, standing back, allowing Yasha to keep him there.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What did I do?” Molly asked very quietly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You invited your dealer girlfriend, and she brought you a nice fucking hit for Christmas.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly stared.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Then you decided things weren’t quite Merry enough and you trashed the fucking place.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“…I…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You were a fucking mess. You tried to get up and dance on the bloody table and wrecked all the food. You broke four chairs and threw my tv out of the window.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I what?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“None of that ringing a bell?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly was horrified.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“…No…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I chucked your fucking girlfriend out and told you never to bring her back. We cleaned up while you passed out on the floor.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Luc… I’m… I’m s-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“And then we had dinner. Do you remember what we really had for Christmas dinner, Molly?!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien was yelling now.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly shook his head.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Chinese takeaway from down the fucking road! That Caleb paid for!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   A silence fell.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It rang in Mollys ears.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It drained the blood from his face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He wanted to shrivel up into a ball and wither away into the dirt.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   “Luc… I’m sorry…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A snort was his only reply.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Then something struck Molly. A thought he hardly dared voice, but something spurred him on.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Did you let me eat with you?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“After all that crap. You let me eat with you, right?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes. Of course we did.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly took a step closer to his brother.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Why?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien seemed to both inflate with rage and sag under some exasperation.<br/>
“Because you’re family and it was Christmas.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>That confirmed what Molly already knew.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna get clean. Properly. For real.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien took a long deep breath.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Look, I’m not going to pretend I believe you or anything, Mol. But… if you want to try then we can help. Here. You can do it here with me.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No…” Molly whispered. Something stung his eyes as he raised them to lock with Luciens. Twin red meeting twin red. “I can get round you guys, I always could. You care about me too much, Luc. You let me sweet-talk round you and then I’m back out there usin’ and messin’ everything up again. I love you, Luc, but that’s the problem.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien’s eyebrows creased.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Rehab then? I’ll pay. We could find you the best places with the best people and-”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Rehab is just a social club for finding more people to supply when they get out.”<br/>
Uk’otoa was striding towards them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His shirt was rich navy today. His salt and peppered hair swept back, and an expression of grim resignation rested on his face.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Good morning.” Lucien spoke at once. “Sorry to drag you out of bed at this hour.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Uk’otoa inclined his head to the younger Tealeaf.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No trouble at all. Unless it turns out to be a waste of my time.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The last part he shot at Molly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It won’t be.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Good. Let’s go then.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hold on-” Lucien reached for his brother. “This is real, Mol? Really real, right?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yuh.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucien turned to Uk’otoa.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“How long will it take?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The man shrugged.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Could be a week. Could be a month. It all depends on him.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly gulped.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Then Lucien was hugging him close and everything went still.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I believe in you, Mol.” There it was again. Their secret language. Jumbled words and fragments of sense slipped through Mollys ear into his heart and he pulled his twin in tight to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Yasha stepped up and enfolded both men in her arms. Her face was set.<br/>
“He comes back unharmed.” She said to Uk’otoa.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The man nodded curtly.<br/>
“Scouts honour.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   It was another five minutes before Lucien let go of Molly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly, for his part, clung onto his brother for as long as he could. Every second repairing a tiny piece of him where the fear was threatening to creep back in.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>   But all too soon, they were apart.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Uk’otoa had Molly walk ahead of him as they departed the casino, stepping out into the glinting daylight of city streets.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Didn’t you drive?” Molly asked, looking around for signs of a vehicle.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I had Lisa drop the car back at the docks.” Uk’otoa said simply, pressing Molly on as they headed down the road.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What, fancied a tour?” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly chanced a look over his shoulder.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The taller, broader, older man was walking at his leisure. Seemingly untroubled. But he was watching Molly with intensity.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“So… what then?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I need to see this for myself.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“See what?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“See you walk. All the way to my ship. Do that without me kidnapping you. Without me dragging you kicking and screaming. Do it without trying to back out or run. Then I might just believe you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Metal rings clinked between Mollys teeth.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>So it was a test then?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He had to prove it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No going back, no looking over the shoulder for reassurance. He had to make this journey alone.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*Fuck, like that show… What was it? In that tiny theatre last summer. Some guy with a flower and a guitar… Fuck I don’t remember. But he had to walk. And didn’t he fuck it up? Yeah didn’t he turn round and get killed or something? Well…*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly decided.<br/>
*I’m not looking back.*</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Alright.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Crimson eyes scanned the horizon, finding the speck of blue which marked the docks off on the other side of Nicodranas.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Molly began to walk.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>*</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Starting from the Bottom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I’m going to pat you down.”</p>
<p>Molly blinked.<br/>“You’re gonna..?”</p>
<p>“Up.” Uk’otoa was on his feet. Molly copied him.</p>
<p>   Slowly, methodically, taking every ounce of time required, Uk’otoa searched Mollys entire person. </p>
<p>Neither one broke eye contact. Strong hands weathered with calluses and scars swept over the scrawny body before him. They burrowed into every pocket, every fold of clothing, checked every piece of skin. As they felt along each valley between Mollys ribs, the smaller man held back a ticklish giggle.</p>
<p>“Easy on the merchandise, honey.” </p>
<p>Uk’otoa did not respond.</p>
<p>.<br/>.<br/>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!! It has been a long time i am sorry for anyone still interested!!</p>
<p>   I have some time to dedicate to more of this so hoping to get a load more done soon.</p>
<p>This chapter has no real warnings, just (as usual) references to drug use.</p>
<p>And the song for Mollys mind at the moment is 'Hallelujah' by Jeff Buckley</p>
<p>Love always!!</p>
<p>.<br/>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 17 - Starting from the Bottom</p>
<p>Baby, I've been here before<br/>I've seen this room and I've walked this floor<br/>You know, I used to live alone before, I knew you<br/>And I've seen your flag on the marble arch<br/>And Love is not a victory march<br/>It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah<br/>Hallelujah, Hallelujah</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>   “Why do you think I am the only one who can help?” </p>
<p>Molly looked up from his bed.</p>
<p>“Oh… Well…”</p>
<p>With more time to plan, this go-around Uk’otoa had brought down two mattresses for the room. They had duvets and blankets, even pillows too. For what it was, and certainly in comparison to the previous attempt, it was positively comfy.</p>
<p>“You hate me.” Mol said simply. “I saw it, I know that look. You had it when you was patchin’ me up at the warehouse. It’s cool, I get it a lot, y’know, junkie charm.”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa was silent.</p>
<p>Molly took that as confirmation.</p>
<p>“Luc and Yash, they can’t do it.” He went on. “Nor can My Lady or V…”</p>
<p>Molly did not want to think about how despicably he had behaved towards Vax.</p>
<p>“They all actually care about me, see. I can give them the slip, I can lie to them. I do it all the damn time.”</p>
<p>Still, the man laid on his back on the second mattress said nothing.</p>
<p>“I been usin’ them all worse than I use the fuckin’ dope. An’ I kept tellin’ myself it was okay ‘cause I was so fucked up. Like, too fucked up to work properly. An’ Luc even said it. He said he got it. When he… When I… An’ he was gone an’ I needed…”</p>
<p>Molly caught a shallow breath.</p>
<p>“Don’t matter the reason. Point is, you don’t care about me. You hate me for bein’ this way, so you’re the only one what can do it properly. You can do what gotta be done. You’re gonna be the one I scream at and hit and cry on and…. All that shit. Even though you wanna rip my waster junkie guts out. An’ it won’t affect you ‘cause you don’t give a shit about me. You won’t let me quit.” </p>
<p>Mol swallowed, and finished,</p>
<p>“So, this is me tryin’. For real. And as batshit as it sounds... You might be my only hope.”</p>
<p>The blue shirt shifted. Uk’otoa rested his arms behind his head. </p>
<p>“Drugs take more than their user on a ride, Molly. It’s just a lot less fun for everyone else.”</p>
<p>Molly rolled onto his side.</p>
<p>“I am still skeptical.” Uk’otoa added, speaking to the ceiling as Molly watched the buttons on the mans chest rise and fall with each slow deep breath. “But if you mean it, then I will help you. But it will not be easy, or pleasant. You understand that don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Uhuh…” Molly couldn’t think of a thing to say.</p>
<p>“Right then.”</p>
<p>All at once, Uk’otoa was sitting up. The whole mood of the room shifted somehow, even the air felt lighter on Mollys tongue as the man got to his feet and pulled a box out of a cupboard.</p>
<p>“I’ve got Jenga.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*** </p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “No fair!” Molly cried, though he was not really annoyed.</p>
<p>He was holding his own wrist, trying to keep his hand steady.</p>
<p>“No fair, I’m playin’ at a disadvantage!” </p>
<p>It was true. He had lost every game since the first one, and it getting worse all the time as the day wore on.</p>
<p>Everything was hitting like a wave and he was shaking harder than ever.</p>
<p>He felt less sick though. The bucket sat untouched in the corner.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was the distraction.</p>
<p>“Stop being a baby about it.” Uk’otoa scoffed from where he lay on his stomach on the opposite side of the Jenga tower. He began to slowly pile the fallen blocks back together as Molly withdrew.</p>
<p>“That was a bad move, quivery hands or not.” </p>
<p>Molly shook his head, then stopped. It made his insides swirl.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa noticed.</p>
<p>“Bucket?”</p>
<p>“Nah.”</p>
<p>Molly crossed his legs and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.</p>
<p>“You gotta play me when I’m sober. I’ll whip your butt.”</p>
<p>The older man chuckled low.</p>
<p>“Keep telling yourself that.”</p>
<p>Molly glanced over at the door.</p>
<p>There was a thin strip of frosted glass running down its centre.</p>
<p>The corridor outside was growing dark.</p>
<p>A lump formed somewhere in Mollys throat and began to steadily worm its way up.</p>
<p>Molly did not like the dark. Molly did not like the creeping blackness and empty stretching silence.</p>
<p>Molly did not want to think about what he might begin to see when he closed his eyes.</p>
<p>Gold narrowed, eyeing the mess of a man hunched over the reforming Jenga tower.</p>
<p>Something in that stare drew Mol back to where he sat, away from the worries over an uncertain night ahead.</p>
<p>“I’m going to pat you down.”</p>
<p>Molly blinked.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna..?”</p>
<p>“Up.” Uk’otoa was on his feet. Molly copied him.</p>
<p>   Slowly, methodically, taking every ounce of time required, Uk’otoa searched Mollys entire person. <br/>Neither one broke eye contact. Strong hands weathered with calluses and scars swept over the scrawny body before him. They burrowed into every pocket, every fold of clothing, checked every piece of skin. As they felt along each valley between Mollys ribs, the smaller man held back a ticklish giggle.</p>
<p>“Easy on the merchandise, honey.” </p>
<p>Uk’otoa did not respond.</p>
<p>A pot of pink nail varnish was discovered in a rear pocket of the jeans. A bunch of sweet wrappers in the front, and a set of spare bass strings in the hoodie.</p>
<p>   Letting go, Uk’otoa nodded.</p>
<p>“I’m impressed.”</p>
<p>Molly tilted his head a little like a puppy.</p>
<p>“Impressed? How come?”</p>
<p>That seemed to catch the older man off guard.</p>
<p>“Uh…” He frowned in concentration, seeming to think over just what to say. “You didn’t try to sneak something on. I guess I was just surprised.”</p>
<p>  Molly sighed.</p>
<p>He deserved that though.</p>
<p>This was the level of faith everyone had in him.</p>
<p>And for good reason.</p>
<p>“I’m here to get clean.” He mumbled. “Sneaking smack on kinda defeats the point, dontcha think?”</p>
<p>   Seemingly satisfied, Uk’otoa strode towards the round hatch in the middle of the floor.</p>
<p>“You want something to eat, before you start puking it all back up again?”</p>
<p>Molly flinched. The man would not let him escape what was coming. He could stave it off with games and idle chat for a while, but eventually the reality would hit. Molly would bottom-out and the world would cave in. </p>
<p>He was seriously not looking forward to that.</p>
<p>“Not really hung-” Midway through replying, Molly paused. “Actually! You got any of them Pot Noodle things?”</p>
<p>This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.</p>
<p> Silver hair raised from the storage below, followed by an expression of mingled disgust and resignation.</p>
<p>“Uhhg, you too? Lisa is obsessed with the stupid things. The fact anyone is able to digest that crap is a feat of wonder.”</p>
<p>Lifting himself off the ladder, Uk’otoa sighed and walked up to the door, knocking loudly on it and calling through,</p>
<p>“Lisa?”</p>
<p>“Yeah boss?”</p>
<p>“You mind grabbing me some of those…” A long deep sigh. “Pot Noodle things?”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“You finally come to your senses then? Realized they are a culinary gift from the gods?”</p>
<p>Honey eyes glared at the door.</p>
<p>“Just get me a pot, please.”</p>
<p>“Be right back!” Came the gleeful reply.</p>
<p>The sound of footsteps faded away up the ships floors.</p>
<p>Molly, meanwhile, had perched himself back down on his mattress and grabbed his bass.</p>
<p>As Uk’otoa turned back into the room, the smaller man began to pluck out the first few lines of ‘Gay Bar.’</p>
<p>“Must you?”</p>
<p>“Excuuuuse me?”</p>
<p>The last note twanged as Molly raised a long eyebrow at the bigger man.</p>
<p>“Gay Bar is a classic. Or like, modern classic.”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa tapped his foot as he waited by the door.</p>
<p>“I highly doubt that. Play it again and the guitar is going overboard.”</p>
<p>That made Molly grip the bass close to him.</p>
<p>“A’rright, okay, yeesh. I’ll play summat else.”</p>
<p>“Thank the gods.” </p>
<p>Molly let his eyes drift closed as he thought, idly strumming the four strings back and forth.</p>
<p>“Oh, I know one you’ll definitely like!”</p>
<p>   He made it all the way through to the second chorus of ‘Another One Bites the Dust,’ without another complaint. Then a soft knock came from the other side of the door and Uk’otoa opened it with a sigh.</p>
<p>The steaming cup was thrust into Mollys hands, and the older gentleman took up his seat on the other bed.</p>
<p>Mol eased his bass off his lap and settled down to slurp at the noodles, sniffing with a perplexed look.</p>
<p>“Chicken mushroom..? No… some kinda curry? No… wait… chicken. Deffinately. Maybe… huh…”</p>
<p>His taste buds were shot. Molly made a mental note to stop smoking too, when this was all over. Couldn’t hurt right?</p>
<p>   Uk’otoa seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The exasperated stare he was fixing on the weaker man did not waver as Molly took another gulp.</p>
<p>“You not eatin’?”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa shook his head.</p>
<p>“Jeez man, you ain’t the one what’ll be chuckin’ it all up in a few hours.” Mol kept his words light as a breeze, but the nagging fear sneaked into his voice like bee stings.</p>
<p>“Lisa is fixing me something of considerably more sustenance once you are out for the night.”</p>
<p>Mol snorted.</p>
<p>“So tell me somethin’ then.” He tipped the pot up and drained the last of the noodles in one.<br/>Wiping his mouth on the hoodie sleeve, Molly asked,<br/>“Why?”</p>
<p>   The stony man looked momentarily confused.</p>
<p>“Why what?”</p>
<p> “You pick.” Molly threw back. “Whyyyyy did you agree to this? Whyyyy do you hate junkies so much, like more than normal folks, y’know? Normal folks just dodge me an’ shit, but you proper hate me. I can tell y’know, I see shit, I ain’t thick. Or, whhyyyy…” Mol fished about for something stupid to distract from his shivering legs and the dangerously personal question he’d just asked. “Why d’you keep lookin’ at my crotch?”</p>
<p>   Broad shoulders leaned back against the wall as Uk’otoa laughed.</p>
<p>“Whatever you got your hands on after you left must have really taken you on a damn trip if you think I am going to answer half of those.”</p>
<p>A puff of breath was expelled as Uk’otoa shifted his weight into a more comfortable position. Amber trailed a careful deliberate line over Molly’s body as the tremors curled their fingers through each limb one by one. </p>
<p>   Molly cast aside the now thoroughly licked-clean Pot Noodle, and reached for his bass again. He needed to hold onto something sure, something steady. Something he could do.</p>
<p>His fingers twitched but he glared at them and began to play again.</p>
<p>“Ohh she got a smile… seems to me… reminds me of childhood memories…”</p>
<p>Molly stopped.</p>
<p>He was not usually one to take things literally, but right now… </p>
<p>Right now at the bottom of low.</p>
<p>Right now when he could feel every muscle burning.</p>
<p>Right now when everything was getting ready to hurt and he couldn’t even imagine what it might feel like to be out on the other side.</p>
<p>Right now, Mollymauk Tealeaf did not want to think about his childhood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   He abruptly switched songs.</p>
<p>“I opened up a bottle and I fell out of bed... I couldn't find the floor until it hit me in the head…”</p>
<p>Better.</p>
<p>Much better.</p>
<p>   If Uk’otoa had noticed the shift in Molly, he did not mention it. But as the last notes of the new song faded in Mol’s throat, the stern man at last spoke.<br/>“I agreed to help because I want to know if there are people out there worth stopping for.”</p>
<p>Golden eyes were staring at the ceiling, not at Molly.</p>
<p>“What you  mean?”</p>
<p>Mol began to play through ‘Hysteria’ by Muse. It felt certainly fitting for what was about to happen to him.</p>
<p>“I mean when you get clean.” Then Uk’otoa added the inevitable, “and if you STAY clean. Your brother would have been worth it. For you to quit.”</p>
<p>*twaannnnngggggggggg*</p>
<p>The song came to a sudden pause.</p>
<p>“Of COURSE he’s worth it!” Mol didn’t have the energy to shout, but he gave it his best attempt. “For Luc, for Yash, I’d do anythin’ in this world and the next!”</p>
<p>He turned and caught the new look Uk’otoa was giving him. </p>
<p>Mol couldn’t decide if it pissed him off or made him giddy.</p>
<p>Just incase it was the latter, Molly lowered his voice and asked,<br/>“So… You really have done this before then?”</p>
<p>   The man with silver hair and amber eyes swayed ever so slightly the more Molly looked at him.</p>
<p>Or perhaps it was Molly who was swaying.</p>
<p>“Yes I have. And I have had a lot of years to consider how I’d have gone about it differently. So…”</p>
<p>And suddenly Uk’otoa was very large and Mollymauk so very very small as the man purred.<br/>“Lucky, lucky you.”</p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>.<br/>The bottom of the boat had definitely got smaller in the last hour.<br/>Definitely.<br/>Mol stared around at the plain walls, sitting silently in the darkness.<br/>He peered over to where the Jenga blocks lay.<br/>That had been fun.<br/>For a while.<br/>Distracting.<br/>He could feel the shivers rolling through his muscles. They hadn’t stopped. Not for a long time now.<br/>He was certain Uk’otoa knew. A man like that could see everything. And Molly wasn’t exactly subtle.<br/>He tugged at the hood strings, hugging into himself where he lay.<br/>It was so dark.<br/>And so quiet.<br/>Mollymauk couldn’t stand the silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.<br/>.<br/>Mollymauk is attempting to get clean, and only one very dangerous man can help.<br/>Uk'otoa has no patience for a junkie wasting his time, but as the days draw on, both begin to understand the other just a little better...</p>
<p>***</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>.</p>
<p>No TW's for this chapter, but there are mentions of death, grief and addiction. </p>
<p>Loads of love.</p>
<p>This chapter is dedicated to Kat, who loves me and our trio despite her better judgement.<br/>xxx</p>
<p>...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 18- Blood </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Into your veins, like heroin<br/>
Accept the pain, just to feel again,<br/>
Everybody wants some, everybody gets none from me<br/>
'Cause everybody's on drugs<br/>
It's hard to believe, the American dream is a killing machine<br/>
We're all falling in love with a new disease<br/>
If it's killing you, then it's murdering me</p>
<p>‘Drugs’- Falling In Reverse</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   …</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   The night came, despite Molly’s desperation to keep it held at bay with both hands.<br/>
Uk’otoa seemed to allow him to exist in a bubble for perhaps an hour longer than necessary. The thin strip of glass in the door was well and truly black by the time the man got to his feet, stretched and announced,</p>
<p>“Time for bed.”</p>
<p>  Molly swallowed.</p>
<p>He shuffled the blankets around with his toes, watching as soft leather shoes trod past the scattered jenga pieces.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa called back as he stepped into the hall.</p>
<p>“I am going to brush my teeth. I suggest you do the same.”</p>
<p>“But I don’t got no-”</p>
<p>“Bathroom sink.”</p>
<p>A heavy tanned finger pointed towards the ensuite. Molly nodded. The door closed. The lock clicked. Molly listened as the other man headed up the stairs and closed another door on the floor above.</p>
<p>   Slowly, bare feet padded into the bathroom. True enough, a blue professional standard brush sat beside the cold tap, and a fresh tube of paste too.</p>
<p>Mol popped the lid off and sniffed it.</p>
<p>“Yuch…”</p>
<p>He smeared a dollop onto the bristles and set about giving himself the most diligent teeth-cleaning of his life. It tasted revolting, but he had to admit that it did make him feel a bit better.</p>
<p>*Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I won’t chuck up this time.* Mol found himself hoping as he scrubbed his face on a fluffy white towel. Streaks of khol liner remained in stains as he exited back to flop down on his mattress. </p>
<p>The bottom of the boat had definitely got smaller in the last hour.</p>
<p>Definitely.</p>
<p>Mol stared around at the plain walls, sitting silently in the darkness.</p>
<p>He peered over to where the Jenga blocks lay.</p>
<p>That had been fun.</p>
<p>For a while.</p>
<p>Distracting.</p>
<p>He could feel the shivers rolling through his muscles. They hadn’t stopped. Not for a long time now.</p>
<p>He was certain Uk’otoa knew. A man like that could see everything. And Molly wasn’t exactly subtle.</p>
<p>He tugged at the hood strings, hugging into himself where he lay. </p>
<p>It was so dark.</p>
<p>And so quiet.</p>
<p>Mollymauk couldn’t stand the silence.</p>
<p>It ate away at him piece by piece, exposing bare thoughts and only the worst of memories.</p>
<p>Rose-kissed hands fumbled around for his bass.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “Eat a dick!” Mol’s cry was victorious. He lay on his front, still in the grey hoodie. His feet were crossed in the air behind him, pointed tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth as he concentrated on pressing the pink plastic hippo as fast as he could. A feat seemingly only helped by his shaking hands. </p>
<p>“Woo!! Okay I like this game! Rematch?”</p>
<p>He grinned up at Uk’otoa.</p>
<p>The crash hadn’t completely taken hold yet. Mostly because Mol had refused to sleep. Instead he laid awake playing softly on his bass. Miraculously the Pot Noodle had not resurfaced yet.</p>
<p>The rumbling lullabies had echoed through the ship into the early hours, when Mol had drifted off for an hour or so, only to jerk awake and immediately continue playing.</p>
<p>   The silver-haired man growled,<br/>
“Son of a bitch.” Amber eyes seemed to glare holes into the white hippo at his fingertips. That made Mol snort a laugh. </p>
<p>Uk’otoa looked down at him across the hippos.</p>
<p>“Fine.” He huffed, tipping his meager amount of tiny plastic balls back into the centre. “But this is the last round.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not five minutes later, Mol was once again victorious.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa swore darkly under his breath as Mollymauk rolled onto his back and drummed his hands on the floor, giggling. It turned into a hacking cough though, but he clawed it back as he struggled onto his knees. He would not let this be spoiled. Not yet. </p>
<p>*Please gods not yet…*</p>
<p>“You’re waaay too competitive, y’know.” He quipped, keeping his mind off the irritating tremble in his every limb.</p>
<p>   The power-hungry business tycoon gave Molly a sour look.</p>
<p>“What drew you to music?”</p>
<p>Two could play at the distraction game, it seemed.</p>
<p>Mol felt the answer come easily and replied before his mind had time to catch up.</p>
<p>“Luc couldn’t sleep.”</p>
<p>Fuck, the shit storm was coming. It always made his tongue loose as fuck. Not even blind-drunk Molly was this honest.</p>
<p>Gold eyes narrowed as the giggling wreck infront of him turned into a choking coughing fit. He waited in annoyed silence for Mol to pull himself back together. When the two men were facing each other again, Mol felt the tell-tale trace of someone examining him for signs. Signs of using, signs of fighting, signs of the spiraling dizzying crashing withdrawal. And Uk’otoa found them.</p>
<p>Hollows at the cheekbones. Fatigue creeping into the grey smudges underneath crimson eyes. A shadow falling over the peacock feathers down his face.</p>
<p>“I don’t see how that would help.” </p>
<p>Molly was too torn-up to notice if the man was lying. He knew that he was being examined for deceit himself, and it would be only fair for Uk’otoa to fib right back. </p>
<p>It was very easy to not believe Mollymauk. He knew it too. It was rare he ever gave anyone a reason to believe him. </p>
<p>*Junkie charm.* He thought bitterly.</p>
<p>As he attempted to refocus, Mol noticed that there were now eight colourful hippos instead of the four he was certain there used to be. Molly blinked hard and rubbed his eyes.</p>
<p>“…Fuck…” </p>
<p>He took a quick shallow breath.<br/>
“There were, uh… meetings. Loud sometimes. Arguing too. So, I… I used to sing. Nonsense crap I made up, or his favourite songs… Then when I got us out… Circus… Got taught properly… Guitar…” Mol struggled through his train of thought.</p>
<p>   Something shifted behind the golden irises. Molly had become more than a withdrawing experiment, he had become pray. The criminal giant opposite him; the predator.</p>
<p>“Hm…”</p>
<p>It was a beautiful mask of understanding.</p>
<p>“Sounds like you were a good brother.”</p>
<p>   Molly shook his head, closing his eyes as a wave of nausea threatened to creep up over him.</p>
<p>“Nah… just… just a brother.” He mumbled.</p>
<p>He hadn’t been good, not really. </p>
<p>He’d tried.</p>
<p>It was his responsibility.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t believe I’m the oldest.” He said into the room now swimming around his gaze.</p>
<p>He’d taken Luc away. He would rather they slept on the street than spend another second in that fucking place.</p>
<p>He’d convinced Luc to come. He had caused it all.</p>
<p>“…wasn’…” He stuttered, the trembling had reached his throat. “was a… terrible brother…”</p>
<p>He’d followed the lights and the music.</p>
<p>He’d brought Luc to the Big Top and convinced him to stay. </p>
<p>They should have stayed.</p>
<p>“He was so beautiful… should have stayed…”</p>
<p>Mol gulped into his hands.</p>
<p>“s’my fault… Lost him. ‘s all gone…”</p>
<p>   There is a big difference between looking at someone and seeing them.</p>
<p>   Uk’otoa looked into the man fidgeting and shivering on the floor before him, spilling pieces of his heart in the bottom of a boat, and he smiled. The smile had no warmth.</p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>The question carried on a whisper, so gentle. So sweet, so kind it seemed to nestle around Molly’s ear. A friend, almost. </p>
<p>Mollymauk took the bait.</p>
<p>   Hands felt around blindly for his bass.</p>
<p>Blurred shapes pressed into his vision. </p>
<p>He needed it.</p>
<p>Gods fuck he needed it.</p>
<p>Something solid, in his hands.</p>
<p>Hang on.</p>
<p>Hanging on.</p>
<p>Something secure.</p>
<p>Something.</p>
<p>Something something something…</p>
<p>“Was me…”</p>
<p>“What was you, Molly?”</p>
<p>“…good as killed him.” His breath caught after every word. He felt sick. And tired. So fucking tired. But pumped full of sparks. His brain was on fire. He couldn’t find his bass.</p>
<p>   A crooning, soothing voice hummed.</p>
<p>“What are you looking for, Mollymauk?”</p>
<p>   Mol slowed, scrabbling frantically on his hands and knees.</p>
<p>“I did… I left him… shudda never.. never ever…”</p>
<p>Something was thumping on his head.</p>
<p>“Is not what older brothers do. Shudda protected… shudda known… shudda been there… shudda been me…”</p>
<p>Molly leaned on his palms as his eyes began to water.</p>
<p>“Shudda been me…”</p>
<p>He looked to all the world like a desperate sinner confessing before an almighty God.</p>
<p>   Uk’otoa said nothing, just watched.</p>
<p>Molly could sense him there, a hazy bulk somewhere nearby.</p>
<p>“I… I… I…”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Molly stood up. The movement was a shock and took both himself and the fuzzy blob that was Uk’otoa by surprise.</p>
<p>He blinked, rubbing his eyes harder on the grey hoodie sleeves.</p>
<p>Showtime.</p>
<p>Lights.</p>
<p>Glitter.</p>
<p>Bright.</p>
<p>So, so bright.</p>
<p>Go, go go!</p>
<p>Running and running and running and jump!</p>
<p>Mol swayed as everything played out in his minds eye.</p>
<p>Swinging and soaring and flying.</p>
<p>They could fly.</p>
<p>He would catch Luc until his last breath.</p>
<p>   The Flying Peacocks. They had held on so tight. </p>
<p>Luc had held Molly’s hand while the feathers were buzzed into their cheeks. </p>
<p>Always and forever.</p>
<p>Permanent.</p>
<p>Always together. </p>
<p>They meant it.</p>
<p>Back then.</p>
<p>   Mol felt a hand at his back. Somehow it burned through the mess of memories he waded in.<br/>
“Molly.”</p>
<p>Deep words brushed his ear.<br/>
“Go lie down.”</p>
<p>Molly spun on the spot. It was dainty, graceful even, despite the circumstances.</p>
<p>He seized the hand and gripped it with everything he had. The traces of a smile lit up his face.</p>
<p>He tripped backwards.</p>
<p>Something caught his ankles.</p>
<p>Mattress?</p>
<p>But it didn’t matter because he had Lucien and he wasn’t letting go. </p>
<p>He lay back, trying to stop the world cartwheeling. But the tent was revolving faster and faster. </p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>No…</p>
<p>They were revolving. </p>
<p>Spinning out over the roaring crowds. Everything was spinning and circling and everything was perfect.</p>
<p> Together the twins tumbled and swirled and flew.</p>
<p>They would finish with their best trick, the most dangerous trick. Mollys favourite trick.</p>
<p>All they had to do was not let go.</p>
<p>   Stained red eyes flickered back into the present world.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa was half crouched over him.</p>
<p>Molly stared up at the man, confusion creasing his brows.</p>
<p>The man was braced against the wall with one hand, glaring down at him.</p>
<p>Then Molly realized that he was holding on so hard that he was dragging Uk’otoa down with him.</p>
<p>   He attempted his usual cheeky grin.<br/>
“Heey. I’m more of a top to be honest.”</p>
<p>He was still holding the mans hand.</p>
<p>He couldn’t catch his breath.</p>
<p>It wasn’t Lucien. It wasn’t, it wasn’t.</p>
<p>He wasn’t there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t fall.</p>
<p>But…</p>
<p>Molly couldn’t let go.</p>
<p>   “How truly unfortunate for you.” Uk’otoa made attempts to remove his hand from Mollys grasp, but was unsuccessful. Frustration began to build as he asked,</p>
<p>“What happened to you two?”</p>
<p>“No complaints yet.” Mol kept the jibe up. He had to. It was something to concentrate on, lest he tumble into blackness.</p>
<p>But then…</p>
<p>Words found their way to his lips and once again Mol found the honesty spilling from him without his permission.</p>
<p>“I left him…” He admitted through a fast fading smile. “Then he… but I ran… I ran and I ran and I found him but… but he… bled out…”</p>
<p>Were those eyes gold? Or were they twin stars?</p>
<p>The larger man seemed to be weighing all this information up. He knew Lucien, of course. But none of this made sense. It would have been hilarious to Molly in another life, but not right now.</p>
<p>“I cannot stand like this forever Mollymauk. Let go.”</p>
<p>Molly blinked.</p>
<p>*Luc ain’t here.* He told himself.</p>
<p>*He ain’t here. And this definitely ain’t him. Let. Go.*</p>
<p>   But Molly could not let go.</p>
<p>He tried.</p>
<p>“I- I can’t…”</p>
<p>He told his hand to move, he willed his fingers to release the man. But he couldn’t.</p>
<p>Caught between apologetic and terrified, Mol redoubled his efforts as he tried to make a joke.</p>
<p>“There’s better ways to get me in bed…”</p>
<p>Every inch of him was running cold. He was trembling down to his rattling bones.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And still he could not let go.</p>
<p>“I am not coming down there, you asshole.”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa was dangerous.</p>
<p>Deadly.</p>
<p>He could make Mollymauk disappear without a seconds thought.</p>
<p>Molly’s heart began to pound as fear embedded itself in his lungs.</p>
<p>   The man towering over him let out an impatient snort and allowed his full weight to drop down onto a scrawny ribcage. </p>
<p>Mol gasped and spluttered for air as Uk’otoa began to prize his fingers apart.</p>
<p>“Let. Go.” A low growl rumbled, filling the whole room. “Before I break every one of your fingers.”</p>
<p>   Panicking now, Mol thought desperately of his bass. He had to be able to play. He’d go crazy if he couldn’t. </p>
<p>But…</p>
<p>Luc…</p>
<p>*Not him…* Molly repeated.</p>
<p>“…not him… not him…”</p>
<p>   He didn’t notice the tears, whenever they came. But his grip at last slackened.</p>
<p>He was vaguely aware that Uk’otoa was still there. Straddled above him, staring.</p>
<p>His hand was cold now.</p>
<p>*Lonely hand.* Molly thought. *All alone.*</p>
<p>Then again a question came.</p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>Mol was slowly losing feeling. He could feel nothing. Not the tears rolling down his cheeks. Not his shaking hands. Nothing.</p>
<p>*This is new…*</p>
<p>An idea struck him.</p>
<p>*Maybe I’m finally dead.*</p>
<p>Maybe…</p>
<p>A gurgle rose up his throat. Slowly it morphed into sounds, then words.</p>
<p>“Someone killed him…” </p>
<p>This couldn’t be real.</p>
<p>“Shudda been me… But he called and I ran and I ran… and… and there was blood… his blood… can’t be real, can’t be him… should be me…”</p>
<p>He could only stare straight up into widening horrified eyes. </p>
<p>“What..?” It was a breathless whisper of disbelief passing between them. </p>
<p>Tears streamed and streamed, sliding across Mollys face and soaking down into the blankets. </p>
<p>Uk’otoa knelt above the skinny junkie in stunned silence.</p>
<p>Then, he asked.<br/>
“Is that what you keep looking at?”</p>
<p>Molly managed to nod.</p>
<p>“I see him… everywhere.” He hissed, feint and frightened. “When I sleep. When I blink… When I’m trying not to… He can’t be d… be d- be dead. He can’t be…”</p>
<p>   If Luc was dead, it was all over. Again.</p>
<p>He lost him once, and now it played on repeat. A never-ending loop of running and screams and reaching too late.</p>
<p>“I failed.” Mol sobbed, wretched and alone. “I failed him.”</p>
<p>His mind jumped to the man leering over him. Who hated him. Who was helping him. </p>
<p>Clean clean clean.</p>
<p>“…had to forget. I had to… Couldn’t… believe… Couldn’t live…”</p>
<p>He didn’t know why he was attempting to explain.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa didn’t care. </p>
<p>A junkie is just a junkie. Nothing mattered beyond that.</p>
<p>   The room grew colder.</p>
<p>The weight on his Mollys chest had lifted.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa had left him.</p>
<p>Screwing his eyes shut, Molly tried to stop his heart from racing.</p>
<p>“Here.”</p>
<p>Something warm and solid tapped into his side.</p>
<p>“Play your bass, Music Man.” </p>
<p>   Molly cried out in relief, snatching up the guitar and hugging it tight.</p>
<p>As Uk’otoa moved away once more to settle down on his own mattress for the night, Molly called into the dark,</p>
<p>“Thank You.”</p>
<p>***</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. A Hit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The world turned a sickening blinding white and Molly dug his nails into his stomach.</p><p>“Make it stop!!”</p><p>He begged anyone who could hear him.</p><p>“Please!! Fuck, make it stop!! What is this?!”</p><p>   “Phase two.” Uk’otoa replied nonchalantly. </p><p>“Wha..?”</p><p>“And guess what, Mollymauk? This is not about to get any easier. You will be begging me for a hit before too long.”</p><p>“I- fhuucckkk!! –won’t.” Mol snarled through gritted teeth.</p><p>  He heard the older man stifle a disbelieving laugh.</p><p>“We shall soon see.”<br/>.<br/>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rehab is well and truly happening now...<br/>Uk'otoa and Mollymauk clash repeatedly, Molly struggles with his first major side effects, and all in all things are a bit bleak.</p><p> </p><p>References to withdrawals, violence, and self-harm.<br/>Please read with caution if necessary.</p><p>***This chapter is dedicated to ROgue_ROcket_g1rl and to Lori, who have both been reading and leaving me trails of comments as they go.***</p><p>.<br/>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 19- A Hit</p><p>I will always be listening for your laughter and your tears<br/>
And as soon as I can hold you once again<br/>
I won't let go of you, I swear<br/>
We lived through scars this time<br/>
But I've made up my mind<br/>
We can't leave us behind anymore<br/>
Your hands are cold,<br/>
Your lips are turning blue, you're shaking<br/>
This fragile heart,<br/>
So heavy in my chest, it's breaking<br/>
And in the dark, you try to make a pay phone call to me<br/>
-‘Scars’ by James Bay</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p> </p><p>   Molly’s mouth was so dry.</p><p>His chest ached.</p><p>Every melody tugged at his throat, the words rasping off his tongue.</p><p>“and brother… tell me when does it get better…”</p><p>The bass hummed low in the dark as Molly played round and round, fading in and out of the world.</p><p>“why’s it always stormy weather…”</p><p>The Leviathan rocked. The man on the other mattress was breathing in a steady rhythm. Eventually Molly fell silent as he too slipped into sleep.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>   “Fhhuuuuccckkkkk!!”</p><p>Mol woke up yelling.</p><p>This was new.</p><p>New and hurt and it hurt and it was so much hurt.</p><p>Hurt and bad.</p><p>Bad bad bad.</p><p>He was bad bad bad.</p><p>Bad boy.</p><p>Bad thing.</p><p>Bad to the soul. That’s what they said. </p><p>Made such a huge house feel real small. </p><p>So bad. Bad and they’re mad.</p><p>So mad.</p><p>Bad and hurt and it hurt.</p><p>It HURT.</p><p>The bass slipped from his grip onto the mattress.</p><p>He had fallen asleep sitting up, head lolled back against the wall, legs tangled in the sheets.</p><p>It felt like daggers were exploding out of his insides.</p><p>Mol curled over.</p><p>“Fuck! Fuuck!! Fhhuuuuckkkkkk!!”</p><p>He could not breathe.</p><p>He could not think.</p><p>His forehead collided with his knees as spasms shot through his abdomen. </p><p>   Molly was certain he remained like that for a millennium. Centuries seemed to crawl past, rummaging under and over him as he bit back tears and screamed into the air.</p><p>“What the hell?”</p><p>A gruff voice sounded right in front of him.</p><p>Heavy hands tugged at his arms, dragging Molly out of his ball.</p><p>“...hurts...” Mol whimpered.</p><p>He wanted to kick and yell but he thought any movement would break him. </p><p>He moaned, pulling at violet hair.</p><p>“Fhuuckk.... fuck fuck fuck FUCKKKK ME WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS?”</p><p>Uk’otoa raised an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. Molly thought the man looked as though something utterly delicious had just fallen into his lap. It was not a comforting thought.</p><p>But then the world turned a sickening blinding white and Molly dug his nails into his stomach.</p><p>“Make it stop!!”</p><p>He begged anyone who could hear him.</p><p>“Please!! Fuck, make it stop!! What is this?!”</p><p>   “Phase two.” Uk’otoa replied nonchalantly. </p><p>“Wha..?”</p><p>“And guess what, Mollymauk? This is not about to get any easier. You will be begging me for a hit before too long.”</p><p>“I- fhuucckkk!! –won’t.” Mol snarled through gritted teeth.</p><p>  He heard the older man stifle a disbelieving laugh.</p><p>“We shall soon see.”</p><p>The voice faded away and Molly vanished into the piercing white.</p><p>What did he want?</p><p>What now?</p><p>White hot blistered through Mollys veins.</p><p>Gods he was so empty.</p><p>*Why aren’t I dead?* He asked himself.</p><p>*Why wasn’t it me?*</p><p>He should have been there. That would have saved everything.</p><p>A bald head and gleaming eyes swam out of Mollys memory.</p><p>“No...”</p><p>*Now now, little Molly. On your knees again for me. That’s a good boy.*</p><p>“Fhuuuckkkkk!!”</p><p>*I did, little Molly. Oh how I did.*</p><p>“He...lp me... Please..?” Molly whispered.</p><p>Lorenzo laughed.</p><p>“You did this to yourself.”</p><p>But the cool voice of irritation was not Lorenzo’s. </p><p>“Please... it hurts... it hurts...”</p><p>   There was a lengthy silence.</p><p>“Come on.”</p><p>Strong  arms aided the shivering addict up off the mattress. </p><p>“Can you w-?” But the question was cut off as Molly’s strength buckled and he toppled forwards.</p><p>He was certain that Uk’otoa would let him fall, but again those hands caught him.</p><p>“Just so you remember.” The man began as he hoisted Mol into his arms and headed up and out down the corridor. “We’re surrounded by water. Open ocean for miles. You would drown before you reached Nicodranas. Got it?”</p><p>   Molly nodded, swallowing back the urge to scream again as fresh waves of thick stabbing jarring hurt burned away at his insides. </p><p>“I’m not.... fhuckk... not... gonna run. Fuckkkk..!! I told- told ya... I’m here for... for Luc...”</p><p>A snort sounded from the man carrying him. </p><p>Molly was too entangled in his own pain to argue.</p><p>“Wh-where we... where we goin’?” He asked.</p><p>“Shower.” Came the abrupt response. “Warm water is supposed to help.”</p><p>Molly tried to remember the last time he had washed, as he was carried through a door and deposited onto a clean bed with crisp white linens in a small stark room.</p><p>“Don’t puke in here.” The instruction was the last of Uk’otoa Mol saw for a while, as the man disappeared into the ensuite.</p><p>Mol laid back on the bed and willed the pain to just go away.</p><p>He would rather be throwing up.</p><p>He would rather be stabbed- again!</p><p>He would rather be shot- again!</p><p>At least it was quick.</p><p>“Why’s... why’s it hurt?” He choked out.</p><p>He had no clue what was happening.</p><p>The shakes and the sweats he knew of, but Mol had never felt anything like this before.</p><p>But then, Mol had never gone without for this long before.</p><p>As the tanned face reappeared around the bathroom door, Mol added,</p><p>“Don’t you dare say it was the damn Pot Noodle.”</p><p>Uk’otoa approached the bed and leaned down over Molly, pressing right up against his shivering form, breathing against Mol’s ear.</p><p>“It was definitely the Pot Noodle.”</p><p>Mol groaned.</p><p>“Think you’ll be able to get in by yourself?”</p><p>A sweep of silver dappled hair caught the light as Uk’otoa stood back to eye the trembling idiot on the bed.</p><p>Mol pushed himself up, slowly. Very slowly. </p><p>Sitting was alright. </p><p>At least it wasn’t worse.</p><p>Carefully, he placed one bare foot onto the floor, then the other, and rose shakily, looking around.</p><p>The walls up here were plain too. No accessories, no photos, no warmth. Just cold stark cream.</p><p>   “Don’t trust me in your bedroom then?” He quipped, determined to keep up the facade. </p><p>“I don’t trust anyone in my room. Don’t take it personally.”</p><p>Mol flashed his teeth in a grin.</p><p>“Uhuh. Sure- oh FUCK!!”</p><p>He stood, and remained standing, but doubled over screwing up his face as he grabbed at his stomach.</p><p>“Fhhuuuckkkkk..... okay, okay... I got this...”</p><p>He unzipped the hoodie, letting it fall, then attempted to drag the shirt off too.</p><p>That was where he got stuck. He wanted to crumple over as knives struck at him from his abdomen.</p><p>Streaming crimson met narrowed amber.</p><p>“Uh... fancy undressing me? No strings. I know Luc is more your type.”</p><p>He got no response as Uk’otoa strode over to him and began gently undoing the buttons one by one until Molly could shrug the shirt off his shoulders and take a breath.</p><p>*vvvvvvt vvvvvvvt*</p><p>   “Speak of the devil.”</p><p>Molly watched with wide eyes as Uk’otoa took out an immaculately clean phone in a grey case and read the message. </p><p>“Get in the shower, Mollymauk. I have a call to make.”</p><p>“To Luc?”</p><p>“That is not of your concern.”</p><p>“My brother, my concern.”</p><p>“Go and wash that grime off. When was the last time you were properly clean?”</p><p>Mol shrugged.</p><p>“Dunno. Don’ usually think about it.”</p><p>“Revolting.”</p><p>Mol shot the man a wink.</p><p>“No complaints yet.”</p><p>“Yes well other junkies cannot be the best judges of bedfellows now can they.”</p><p>Mol opened his mouth to retort, but another round of internal agony threatened to swallow him whole and he bit his lip instead, digging in his teeth until he tasted blood.</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>This time, Uk’otoa was softer. He pointed into the bathroom, from which running water could be heard pattering onto tiles.</p><p>Molly staggered inside and peeled off his jeans without bothering to close the door.</p><p>Of course he had no shame.</p><p>Especially not in this state.</p><p>He stepped into the shower cubical and closed his eyes letting the heat sit on his skin.</p><p>It stung and burned in places. Not yet healed cuts and bruises seemed to hiss, fresh stitches twinged, but very slowly his abdomen seemed to calm the hell down.</p><p> Mol pressed his forehead against the cool tile wall, shifting so the water could run down his back. It bit at scabs and scratches as it went.</p><p>Softly, he began to recite words he’d been memorising over the years.</p><p>“...arise fair sun and kill the envious moon... who is already sick...”</p><p>He spoke them as though he were humming a lullaby.</p><p>“...none but fools do wear it... Ahhhhh fhuckk...”</p><p>He hissed an intake of breath.</p><p>   To distract himself, Mol reached up to the shelf of bottles just above him. </p><p>They were all neat, with labels that screamed ‘posh soap company’ to Molly.</p><p>He spent a while examining each, before settling on the more interesting of the bottles.</p><p>Mol poured a dollop into his hands and began to scrub.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>   Twenty minutes later, Mollymauk emerged from the bathroom, towel hanging precariously loose at his hips.</p><p>“I SMELL LIKE A FUCKIN’ CANDYCANE!!”</p><p>Uk’otoa was not in the bedroom, but Mol heard movement in the kitchen and headed down the hall, clutching an orange bottle of body wash.</p><p>“The hell even is ‘Old Spice’ anyway? And why does your soap smell like Christmas?”</p><p>His skin was soft and pale now. But on the downside, every burn, every scar, every remnant of everything Molly had ever experienced, were sticking out like eyesores. His body was strewn all over with them. Where there wasn’t a mark, there were tattoos. Some even deliberately covering the older more faded scars. </p><p>   As Molly wandered into the kitchen, he spotted the taller man stood leaning over one of the counter tops.</p><p>“For real, what is this stuff?” Molly thrust the bottle down next to the mans elbow, and tugged the towel off to scruff it through his hair.</p><p>Uk’otoa looked up from his phone in a daze. </p><p>Until he saw the stark naked Molly.</p><p>“A little warning next time!” He groaned, pushing Mol aside and moving away to fill a glass with water from the tap. </p><p>“And it’s body butter, you swamp monster.” He added after taking the first sip.</p><p>“Christmas? You mean the peppermint? Well, I like it. You had better not have used it all, much as you dearly need it.”</p><p>   Molly dried his hair roughly, scrubbing the towel hard through violet curls.</p><p>“Me too.” He smiled, thinking of candy canes and Christmas stockings. “Not too strong, just enough kick.”</p><p>He wrapped the towel around his head.</p><p>It promptly fell off.</p><p>“Damn. Yash can do this cool twiddly trick with her towels...” He mused. “Never could work out how to get it to stay up though...”</p><p>Uk’otoa was watching Molly over the rim of his glass.</p><p>“Where did all those come from?” He asked.</p><p>Stretching his arms out, Molly peered down at his chest, following the direction of honey eyes roaming over his skin.</p><p>“Pick one and I’ll tell ya.” He offered. “Any of them. All of them. Whatever.”</p><p>He did feel slightly better. The heat of the shower had settled around his abdomen like a cuddle.</p><p>Uk’otoa seemed to mull the offer over before he pointed to several clustered scatterings of dark scars and asked,</p><p>“Where are the burns from?”</p><p>   The thing with Mol was, he had no idea if he was endearing or not. So he could not switch it on and off like Lucien did so expertly to get his way. So when he answered, still in that overly truthful stupor the withdrawal had him in, he could not tell that the other man was hanging on his every word.</p><p>“Some are from folks tryin’ to wake me up.” He said, tapping the little burns across his shoulders. “Some from folks I pissed off.” He rubbed the larger, nastier blistered burns streaked over his back.<br/>
“And... well, some are from extra-circular activities.” This time he ran a hand over the perfectly round marks down patches of his chest.</p><p>Then scarlet eyes whipped over to Uk’otoa, searching for any signs of disgust, alarm, or –even better- delight, as Mol leaned over on the counter towards the man.</p><p>What he got was a deliberately expressionless response. “For someone who gets off on pain, you sure whine a lot.”</p><p>Mol snorted. “Oi!”</p><p>He slid along the edge of the counter, closing the gap between them both. </p><p>Initially he had intended to just poke a finger into Uk’otoas bicep and accuse him of kink shaming.</p><p>But as he drew in closer, something gave him a kick and Mol dived headfirst into his favourite pastime- pushing his luck.</p><p>Scuffed nails covered in chipped varnish dug into Uk’otoa’s arms as Mollymauk leaned into the mans chest, balancing himself steady as he dragged his nails down heavy tanned skin. Crimson eyes stared intently up at his once-captor’s face, from beneath long pale lashes. </p><p>“I love it.” He murmured, digging in deeper.</p><p>Again, Mol was being completely serious. A lot of bad had been forgotten through dark trips to special underground dens, or The Nine Hells Club. </p><p>Graz’zt sure knew how to kick-start your deepest wildest desires. </p><p>Claws and chains and the cracks of whips. </p><p>Maybe that could be better than a high?</p><p> </p><p>Mol snapped back to the present.</p><p>“What about you huh? Before you go get jiggy with the hott version of me. Tell me what you’re into?”</p><p>He was grinning. He meant it.</p><p>Golden honey glared down at Mollymauk, and for a moment Mol could have sworn he saw the pupils dilate. </p><p>Uk’otoa stood almost a head taller than the scrawny bassist, and as he took a step away from the counter top he carried Mol in his wake.</p><p>Bare feet hurriedly scrabbled backwards across the kitchen floor, until Molly’s spine smacked into the far wall.</p><p>Something in the taller man shifted. Molly had not removed his nails. They sat biting into the flesh of Uk’otoas biceps.</p><p>A smile twisted dangerously at the corners of Uk’otoas mouth. </p><p>“Oh Molly.” He crooned, deep, low, rumbling butterflies into action in Mol’s stomach.</p><p>   The cocky grin on the smaller man’s face was obscured in an instant. Uk’otoa pressed a hand over Molly’s mouth, swatting away Mol’s fingers as he whispered,</p><p>“I don’t kiss and tell.”</p><p>With that, he stepped back and released his hold.</p><p>“Go and put some clothes on. I do not want to see your dick again today.”</p><p>“Knew you was checkin’ me out in the shower.” Mol stuck out his tongue.</p><p>“I can assure you I was not.”</p><p>Mol rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Oh yeah, course. You’re more into Luc right? Gettin’ all cosy over business deals yeah? Well, next time just replace my face with his and add a couple stone.”</p><p>He headed for the door to hunt down his jeans, when Uk’otoa snapped after him,</p><p>“Enough with the ‘my brother’ bullshit! I can do business with whoever I please, in bed or not. And it has absolutely nothing to do with you.”</p><p>   Mol swallowed. </p><p>He really had hit a nerve this time.</p><p>Usually he would have chalked that up to a major win and relished it.</p><p>But right now it made his chest tighten and his head swirl.</p><p>“Think I might go back to bed...” He mumbled.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>There was a silence.</p><p>“Sorry...”</p><p>“Go to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>   SMASH</p><p>“Luc?!”</p><p>Molly leapt up off the mattress and sprinted upstairs.<br/>
He had no clue how much time had passed since he had passed out clutching his bass, but it was not yet dark as he tore past windows, bedrooms and up corridors until he arrived in the living room up on the main deck.</p><p>Molly had only seen this room once so far, as he was lead through it down into the bowels of the ship. If he had the time to really drink it all in, it could quite possibly become his favourite place on The Leviathan. </p><p>As it was, Mol barely spared the immaculate interior a glance as he darted over to the man stood gripping the back of the sofa with knuckles so white Mol was half certain the sofa may be snapped in two soon.</p><p>“You a’right?”</p><p>He hesitated, a few feet away.</p><p>He had already pushed his luck plenty for the day.</p><p>Honeyed eyes were fixated on a point far out to sea. Somewhere out across the waves. Mol peered in the same direction. That window was smashed.</p><p>A lamp was dangling pathetically through the pane, snapped in half from the impact.</p><p>“Yeesh...” Mol muttered aloud. </p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>Uk’otoa spoke from behind him, but as Molly turned he noted that the man had not relaxed his grip on the sofa.</p><p>“Sure.” Mol raised an eyebrow. “This looks fine. Sure.”</p><p>   Uk’otoa clicked his tongue impatiently and shoved himself away from the sofa, which creaked.</p><p>“I got angry. Your brother is an infuriating piece of work.”</p><p>Molly reeled.</p><p>“Luc? Luc was here?”</p><p>Uk’otoa shook his head.</p><p>“Not in person, no.”</p><p>Mol was puzzled.</p><p>“Video conference was it?”</p><p>Uk’otoa nodded.</p><p>“And it went... bad?”</p><p>“I do not appreciate our business agreements being given abrupt alterations.” </p><p>Molly frowned. </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“All of a sudden,” Uk’otoa was vigorously rearranging the cushions. Beating them into shape. Mol was pretty sure the man was picturing his face on at least two of them. “Our dealings are being called into question. I do not appreciate it. That is all you need to know.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Molly had no idea what was going on. He could practically feel the sparks emanating from the man now slamming fist after fist into the couch cushions. </p><p>He should head back down to his bass and wait for sleep, pain or nausea to overtake him again.</p><p>He should.</p><p>But he didn’t.</p><p>All caution and common sense abandoned Molly in that moment. He picked his way over to Uk’otoa.</p><p>“Hey now. I know Luc, he ain’t this infuriating. You sure you ain’t thinkin’ of me?”</p><p>He was in the danger zone. </p><p> </p><p>Something in the far reaches of his mind was trying to warn him.</p><p>Stay back. Step back. Get away.</p><p>But instead, Mol stepped further into the monsters den.</p><p>He reached for whatever part of the man he could get to, meaning to comfort him somehow. Mol’s fingertips brushed a crisp sleeve, coming to a halt at Uk’otoas wrist.</p><p>“I’m sorry... Whatever’s going on. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Silence fell again. It seemed to stretch out into the ocean waves all around. The boat rocked in nothingness, the waves lapped in muted crests.</p><p>Then...</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t touch me.”</p><p>A low, grinding, gravel heavy tone split the air.</p><p>Piercing gold traced the lines down Molly’s arms and settled hatefully on the mess of track marks. </p><p>A wide palm snapped, thrashing out across Mol’s cheek in a swift hit that nearly sent him reeling.</p><p>“I- I-”</p><p>The hand seized Molly by the throat and began driving him backwards.</p><p>“Don’t FUCKING TOUCH ME!”</p><p>Uk’otoa was shouting by the time he had forced Mol to the other side of the room, holding on with a shaking hand. </p><p>“What is it with you people, huh? Is it something in the tap water?!” His fingers dug into the flesh at Mollys neck, short trimmed nails flexing into the contracting muscles gagging under the grip.</p><p>SLAM</p><p>Molly’s knees collided with another couch.</p><p>Unrelenting, Uk’otoa let him trip over onto it, doggedly following, still clutching Mol’s throat. The man curled his fingers again, feeling the futile attempts to grab at the air.</p><p>Golden eyes shone through the fog soaking into Mollys mind.</p><p>He was sinking into it.</p><p>Sweet beautiful bliss.</p><p>Maybe this was the thing he’d chased through the raves with Cree, through bed with Vax, through the drugs and the orgasms. Maybe this would finally be it.</p><p>Suddenly, Uk’otoa and Mollymauk were nose to nose. The gargantuan man was hissing words, practically pressing them into Mollys mouth as he gasped.</p><p>“Is that why you’re so goddamned thick-headed?”</p><p>   “Hhnnngggggg...”</p><p>“Do you have the faintest idea what I could do to you, Mollymauk?”</p><p>“Fhhnnn...”</p><p>“I can erase you from the world. Like you never even existed.”</p><p>Crimson eyes rolled back in their sockets.</p><p>Bliss was coming, Mol could feel it.</p><p>He was ready. He wanted it.</p><p>He wanted it all consuming, taking him over.</p><p>Maybe death would be kind to him.</p><p>Maybe he would see hell, like his parents always said.</p><p>   Air boiled into his lungs before Molly could understand what was happening.</p><p>He choked and gasped, raising himself up on trembling limbs.</p><p>“Go away.” A deep hollow voice told him. “Go lie down. Stay away from me.”</p><p>   By the time Molly had fully regained consciousness, Uk’otoa had left.</p><p>A door on the floor below slammed.</p><p>   Massaging his throat, Mol staggered back down to the lower deck and flung himself onto his mattress.</p><p>He was shivering all over, and dearly wished he could blame it all on the crashing withdrawal. But he could not.</p><p>The room grew steadily darker and darker. Shadows crept along the floor towards Mol’s feet. He huddled up against the wall, clutching his bass as the inky blackness closed in.</p><p>Mol tried to ward off his growing terror by playing through every song he could remember.</p><p>But eventually the darkness swallowed him whole.</p><p>***</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Andante</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*</p>
<p>“Mollymauk, are you afraid of the dark?”</p>
<p>Molly swallowed.<br/>“Not... Not all the time.” He mumbled. </p>
<p>The tall, strapping shape of Uk’otoa seemed to rumble as the man laughed softly for a moment.<br/>“But today especially, yes?” He asked.</p>
<p>Molly paused. How did Uk’otoa know? </p>
<p>But then...</p>
<p>Of course Uk’otoa knew.</p>
<p>Molly nodded.</p>
<p>The bigger man did not seem surprised.<br/>“Right on schedule.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is for my incredible friend Bro. Without you we would have never had this Uk'otoa. You can paint a masterpiece with just a few words. Thank You for giving us your time, and thank you for your part in this rp story.</p>
<p>*<br/>CW/TW: this chapter includes flashbacks of abuse, depression themes, hints of drug use and violence.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Thank You all for reading. This chapter is longer to make up for the gaps between them!<br/>And thank you for all the comments, it's insane to read so many!!</p>
<p>*<br/>*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 20- Andante</p>
<p>I know some things that you don't<br/>
I've done things that you won't<br/>
There's nothing like a trail of blood<br/>
To find your way back home<br/>
-‘Life is Beautiful’ Sixx:AM</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p>   Horns.</p>
<p>Horns in the black.</p>
<p>Twin pairs of blood red eyes gleamed down from the gloom. </p>
<p>Demon-like shapes with barbed tails came and dragged Lucien out of Mollymauk’s arms.</p>
<p>He could neither move nor cry out as everything was torn apart at the seams. </p>
<p>Luc was gone.</p>
<p>Gone.</p>
<p>Gone and knowing it was all Mol had left. </p>
<p>A thick fog cloud settled down around him as he lay half in and half out of dreams. Molly let it. He burrowed in tight and let the dark become his every sense.</p>
<p>Time faded away.</p>
<p>Mol lay silent as the grave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>   He heard the sharp rapping knocks that came just after dawn, but ignored them.</p>
<p>His bones moved as though heavy with lead. His mind was racing through as many bad decisions as he could ever remember making, but the rest was so slow.</p>
<p>Flashes of memory hurtled by.</p>
<p>His fathers car smashing into pieces, screams, shouts, ripped up jeans and makeshift shelters on rainy nights. </p>
<p>Books on grand bookshelves, alive with pictures but he would never read them, plans and responsibility and immaculate black suits.</p>
<p>Luc getting his first tattoo.</p>
<p>Mol getting his first bass.</p>
<p>Glitter on their noses.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then...</p>
<p>Blood and dirt and down, down, down...</p>
<p>All of it exploded inside Mol’s eyelids in a blink.</p>
<p>Molly curled into a ball and let the world spin.</p>
<p>“Mollymauk?”</p>
<p>   He woke up cold.</p>
<p>Shivering and cold.</p>
<p>The endless trembles rattling through every limb were background noise by now. The cold was worse. </p>
<p>The darkness was worst of all.</p>
<p>He felt clammy. Head to toes wrapped in a thin layer of chilled sweat.</p>
<p>But he did not move. Even as more knocking sounded at the door.</p>
<p>That was another time, another place. He was here. In this void. </p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>In this pit.</p>
<p>He had sunk to the bottom. Bottoming out.</p>
<p>Lower than low, again.</p>
<p>Mollymauk thought he had hit the furthest he could fall a few days ago, but now he knew that was oh so very wrong.</p>
<p>That ground had devoured him into a new empty vast black.</p>
<p>“Mollymauk?”</p>
<p>Someone was calling him.</p>
<p>Molly coiled himself tighter under the blankets.</p>
<p>“I’m coming in.”</p>
<p>*No you’re not.* Mol thought. *No one can come in this place.*</p>
<p>A door opened a thousand miles away.</p>
<p>Molly felt the thick fog cloud pressing heavy on his chest.</p>
<p>“Molly?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dark was going to catch him.</p>
<p>Mol knew it.</p>
<p>It lurked everywhere, even behind his eyelids.</p>
<p>He would never outrun it.</p>
<p>What would he do when it engulfed him?</p>
<p>*Die probably.* He thought. And it didn’t scare him.</p>
<p>Footsteps thudded across the floor.</p>
<p>   Molly had believed he was going to die several times in his life.</p>
<p>Screeching tyres, smashing cars. He should have been thrown through the windscreen.</p>
<p>Frozen pavements as winter closed in on the twins, desperately seeking shelter. They could have faded away in the snow.</p>
<p>How many hits had he gone on? Too many to count. Always that risk. Something could go wrong. He could be the one left ghosted. But every time, he had come through. ‘Bloodhunter’ lived up to his name.</p>
<p>He had OD’ed before. Three times. </p>
<p>The first time he was slouched in an armchair with Cree and then suddenly he wasn’t. Cree had been wonderful. Cree knew what to do. Cree brought him back.</p>
<p>The second time was much the same. Same grotty floor, same waking up to cheering faces.</p>
<p>The last time though...</p>
<p>The last time, Molly had been quite alone. </p>
<p>He was in a bedroom. Probably the casino. He’d been angry, he remembered that. Raging angry. Pissed off and alone and shooting up. </p>
<p>Then... the walls had started to beat. Like he was inside their heart and it was hammering, hammering, bang bang bang. Then nothingness.</p>
<p>He didn’t know how he’d woken up. But he had. Sprawled on a pile of clothes and cd’s. </p>
<p>“Mollymauk?”</p>
<p>Maybe he’d die now. Finally be out of everyone’s hair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The footsteps had stopped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe dying was the best thing he could do for them all.</p>
<p>Luc could finally get some rest.</p>
<p>Yash could get a good nights sleep.</p>
<p>Their parents would probably smile for the first time in years. That would tip them off and then they’d know he was gone.</p>
<p>*Yeah.* Molly decided. *Dying would probably be good.*</p>
<p>“Mollymauk?”</p>
<p>  A beam of light fell over Molly’s face.</p>
<p>The blankets were pulled away. </p>
<p>Uk’otoa was kneeling beside the mattress. </p>
<p>Molly said nothing.</p>
<p>“I washed these.” </p>
<p>Jeans and a shirt dropped into his lap.</p>
<p>Mol had forgotten clothes.</p>
<p>He’d run upstairs in the towel and hidden down here again without thinking.</p>
<p>Crimson eyes hung unfocussed, staring at his knees.</p>
<p>   Silence filled the room.</p>
<p>Did death come quietly?</p>
<p>Mol had always imagined he would go out kicking and screaming.</p>
<p>Maybe he’d been wrong.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry...” </p>
<p>It was the smallest Mollymauk had ever sounded.</p>
<p>It was the smallest he had ever felt.</p>
<p>He wasn’t sure if he was cold anymore. He certainly didn’t feel warm though. Just numb.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry...”</p>
<p>“Stop.” Uk’otoa dropped down beside the tangle of blankets. He seemed unsure of what to say. Perhaps he was waiting for Molly to die too?</p>
<p>“Mollymauk, are you afraid of the dark?”</p>
<p>Molly swallowed.</p>
<p>“Not... Not all the time.” He mumbled. </p>
<p>The tall, strapping shape of Uk’otoa seemed to rumble as the man laughed softly for a moment.</p>
<p>“But today especially, yes?” He asked.</p>
<p>Molly paused. How did Uk’otoa know? </p>
<p>But then...</p>
<p>Of course Uk’otoa knew.</p>
<p>Molly nodded.</p>
<p>The bigger man did not seem surprised.</p>
<p>“Right on schedule.”</p>
<p>Mol didn’t know what that meant. </p>
<p>His eye was distracted by the man’s drumming fingertips, playing out a series of off-beat rhythms against his thighs.</p>
<p>“I heard you playing last night.” The man seemed to be trying to regain some sort of calm between them. </p>
<p>“Didn’t you sleep at all?”</p>
<p>Mol looked through his tangled hair to Uk'atoa, as he sat down beside him</p>
<p>"Y-yeah... I couldn't... I mean no. I slept. I think..."</p>
<p>Mol rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palms.</p>
<p>"Bad dreams..." He mumbled.</p>
<p>"It helps... Sometimes. Sorry if I kept you up."</p>
<p>He was awash in the clouds. Floating in the storm, drifting and lost. Words tumbled into space and fuzzed up his brain.</p>
<p>Maybe he should never have come here. He could die anywhere, it didn’t have to be here.</p>
<p>The black cloud dug in deeper.</p>
<p>"...Whats happening to me?" </p>
<p>He knew he must sound as pathetic as he felt. Like no glad thought could ever occur to him ever again. Like nothing would be alright. Never again. Maybe Uk’otoa could make it go away.</p>
<p>Maybe it was foolish to hope.</p>
<p>Well, he was just a fool after all. </p>
<p>Uk’otoa moved closer. Or perhaps Molly imagined he did.</p>
<p>“Short answer- a lot.” The man said simply. “Today is going to be a rough one, and it will most likely extend far beyond just the next 24 hours. But you’ll get through it.”</p>
<p>A heavy hand, rough with calluses, swept the sweaty hair off Molly’s forehead. </p>
<p>It was nice. Just for a moment.</p>
<p>“You didn’t keep me up.” He sighed. “I’m just not very good at knowing songs. It sounded good though.”</p>
<p>Mol felt the clouds shift ever so slightly.</p>
<p>“I could teach you some?” He offered, looking down at his own neatly folded perfectly clean clothes.</p>
<p>He should get dressed.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa must want him to get dressed.</p>
<p>But he was heavy.</p>
<p>Too heavy to move.</p>
<p>Too heavy to think properly.</p>
<p>“Sure. Sounds good.” Uk’otoa was far, far away.</p>
<p>Everything was just a fog, he couldn’t see. The world was all thick grey darkness. Except the light dancing through the salt-and-pepper bristles across Uk’otoas jaw.</p>
<p>Molly stared. Fixating on it. Willing it to stay, to help, to pull him from the depths somehow.</p>
<p>But the fog cloud remained.</p>
<p>“Come on, music man.”</p>
<p>Then he was up. Carried again in strong arms Mol was certain would give tremendous bear-hugs. If he was Lucien, perhaps he would get one. If he was Luc, Uk’otoa would not glare at his arms.</p>
<p>If Mol was Luc, none of this would have happened.</p>
<p>If Mol was Luc, he could just flirt with Uk’otoa and everything would be alright.</p>
<p>If Mol was Luc, Uk’otoa would probably have flirted back.</p>
<p>The neatly folded clothes were plonked in Mol’s lap as he was carried up into the main living room and set down on the couch beside the windows.</p>
<p>Mol shuffled, chewing his nails.</p>
<p>“Whas gonna happen..?”</p>
<p>He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know. </p>
<p>“...I don’ wanna see it again... I know I will but... I don’ wanna...”</p>
<p>The cloud had come upstairs with them. It nestled itself around Molly’s shoulders, a desperately unwanted scarf.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa was closing a laptop sat at a perfect right-angle on the coffee table.</p>
<p>“See what?” He asked. The deep gruff voice was almost gentle. If Mol didn’t know better, he would have believed the man to be concerned for him.</p>
<p>Mol sneaked a glance at the screen before it was closed. </p>
<p>Every open tab was ordered and tidy, probably in alphabetical order too.</p>
<p>He hesitated, one fingertip hovering inches away from his lips.</p>
<p>He didn’t feel sick anymore. That was pleasant. He didn’t hurt too much today either. But something was wrong. Something hung in the air, in every breath he took.</p>
<p>“Luc...” he whispered, resting his cheek against the arm of the sofa. The folded clothes slipped off and onto the floor. “Just... that night... everything... Everything...”</p>
<p>He looked up at Uk’otoa again, pleading eyes over-bright. </p>
<p>“That’s whas gonna happen, ain’t it? I’m gonna see it all again..?”</p>
<p>   Something kept Uk’otoa sat stationary watching Molly for a moment, before he bent to retrieve the clothes and laid them beside the laptop.</p>
<p>“I wish I could say for sure that you won’t, but...” The man sighed, running his fingers through meticulously styled hair. “I have never got this far before. I only know what I’ve read.”</p>
<p>“Read?” Mol was puzzled.</p>
<p>In reply, Uk’otoa gestured to the little side table behind Molly.</p>
<p>He turned.</p>
<p>A small pile of books sat there, and though they looked brand new, each one had been so well thumbed that the covers no longer lay flat. Each volume had at least 20 sticky notes protruding from certain pages too. Mol stood no chance of reading the titles, but they all bore images of needles and spoons and Molly could piece together the rest.</p>
<p>“You studied up on junkies quittin’?” He asked, turning back to Uk’otoa, astonished.</p>
<p>The man nodded gravely.</p>
<p>“Better the devil you know.”</p>
<p>“What happened? With the other guy, your friend. You never got this far before so...”</p>
<p>“Not even close.” Uk’otoa was chuckling, but the laugh did not so much as crinkle his nose.</p>
<p>“We tried, plenty of times. But he fucked off. Then turned up dead in some abandoned building.”</p>
<p>“Shit...” Molly sat up. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m really... I mean... wow...” He fumbled for the right words, trying not to piss the man off again. </p>
<p>He was clumsy and tired and Uk’otoa wanted to be rid of him. Mol could tell. He could sense it in every part of the mans being. </p>
<p>*Soon.* He thought, squashing himself further back into the corner of the couch. *Soon, I’ll probably be dead.*</p>
<p>   But then, all of a sudden.</p>
<p>Mollymauk was surprised.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa reached an arm out along the back of the couch, scooping Molly in and sitting closer. Close enough for Mol to bury his face in the crisp new white shirt.</p>
<p>“Why do you think it was your fault?” Uk’otoa asked, shifting his weight until Mol fitted snugly into his side.</p>
<p>“I...”</p>
<p>Molly felt his throat grow hot and tight.</p>
<p>“I left him...”</p>
<p>He got no response. A hand gently wormed its way across Mol’s shoulder and began scrunching circles into his scalp, but the bigger taller powerful man said nothing. So Molly continued.</p>
<p>“I let... I mean... I went. Let Lorenzo keep me... I chose to go at first but... But I thought he loved me... I thought a lotta dumb shit. Just kept gettin’ high an’ beat the shit out of, an’ fucked up an’ fucked an’... an’... Then he killed Luc... ‘Cause I tried to leave... When Luc called I ran but... It was... I was... Too late...”</p>
<p>A gasp of breath.</p>
<p>“See. My fault. All of it. My fault.”</p>
<p>If anything Mol had just admitted shocked Uk’otoa, the man did not show it.</p>
<p>He allowed Mol to curl up into his side and held him there, silent for a long time. The only thing that moved was Uk’otoas fingers in the violet curls.</p>
<p>“You never told me what you were playing last night.”</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>Molly blinked and looked up.</p>
<p>He was in someone’s arms.</p>
<p>*Nice.*</p>
<p>He had begun to drift off when Uk’otoa spoke.</p>
<p>“Oh uhh... A bunch of stuff. Johnny Cash... Jet... Kansas –classic that, ‘Carry on my Wayward Son,’ total banger.”</p>
<p>He leaned his full weight against the man –which wasn’t very much.</p>
<p>“You liked what you heard then?” He asked, shuffling his shoulder so he could peer up at the mans face.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa seemed to consider his answer before giving it.</p>
<p>“It turns my thoughts off.” His tone was nonchalant, but something told Molly that getting a man like this -a huge, powerful criminal mastermind like this- to switch his brain off was no easy feat. </p>
<p>“I’d probably stop by to see you play once you’re out of here.”</p>
<p>The man was staring out of the windows.</p>
<p>The weather was grey. Molly thought perhaps the fog clouds had come into his head from out there. The ocean was calm though, waved lapped at the boat in slow rhythmic patterns. </p>
<p>Now that he wasn’t nauseous, Mol found it rather relaxing.</p>
<p>He settled back down, laying his head down properly in Uk’otoas lap as he imagined he was back on the road with the Carnival.</p>
<p>The twins had slept in many different places as they travelled. On the ground under wagons, up in tree branches, crammed up in one bunk in the winter. But in warmer months they’d strung up hammocks.</p>
<p>Mol loved that. Swaying in the breeze and watching the stars high above. </p>
<p>“I’m in a band.” He smiled softly, letting the haze of memory remain.</p>
<p>“You should come see us. We’re damn awesome.”</p>
<p>“Oh yes?” Uk’otoas lip twitched. “And what’s your damn awesome band’s name?”</p>
<p>“The Ice Spinners!”</p>
<p>The lip twitch turned into a real laugh. This time it did reach all the way up into the golden irises.</p>
<p>“The what?”</p>
<p>“The Ice Spinners!” Molly found himself laughing too, though a little indignantly. He poked the man in the chest. “It’s a fuckin’ brilliant name!”</p>
<p>“Sure it is.”</p>
<p>“Heeyyyy!”</p>
<p>“You had better be extraordinarily good to make up for a name like that.”</p>
<p>“Come to a gig and you’ll see!”</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>“Sick.”</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon?”</p>
<p>“Sick. Like, cool. Y’know?”</p>
<p>“I swear you make half of this nonsense up.”</p>
<p>Molly laughed again.</p>
<p>“I can introduce you to a whole bunch of music if you want?” He offered. “I’d really like to... well, to turn my thoughts off... right now. Like you said.”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa tilted his head, examining Molly in his lap.</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” the man murmured. “It can be very nice not to think.”</p>
<p>Hands brushed back through violet hair, softly teasing out the knots.</p>
<p>Mol felt a purr brush past his lips.</p>
<p>Man it was nice to feel touch like this.</p>
<p>Mollymauk missed touch.</p>
<p>He avoided it a lot. It was easier. Only lead to hurt.</p>
<p>Lucien was the stud, he got the attention and the nights (upon nights upon nights) of passion. And Caleb. And Avantika. And now Uk’otoa too.</p>
<p>Mol either paid for beatings in darkened clubs, or fell into drunken fumblings. Usually with Cree. Or Arti. </p>
<p>*Fuck... Vax...*</p>
<p>Molly swallowed.</p>
<p>Being touched with some semblance of tenderness... This was new as hell.</p>
<p>Mol couldn’t help but melt into it.</p>
<p>“I’d like that.” He mumbled. His tongue was tripping over itself as he relaxed further into the mans lap.</p>
<p>The black cloud remained. It draped around his heart and his brain and his guts. </p>
<p>“Is it... Is this... crashing out?” He asked. “Is that why everything feels so... so... heavy?”</p>
<p>Of course Uk’otoa knew the answer at once.</p>
<p>“It’s something to do with your brain chemistry.” He explained, untangling a knot from the back of Mollys skull. “It’s all out of whack right now. It was used to having something and now that thing is gone.”</p>
<p>Mol twiddled his liprings in his teeth.</p>
<p>“Uhuh...”</p>
<p>He got no sympathy from Uk’otoa.</p>
<p>“The books all said there will be anxiety, could be more hallucinations and a depressed mood. But that also means you’re on the last few days. So there’s that.”</p>
<p>“Brain chemistry...” Mol rolled that thought over in his foggy mind. “Sounds... well, sounds crap.”</p>
<p>The fingers twirling through his hair stilled, rubbing delicate circles into his skin.</p>
<p>A tingle spiralled down Mollymauk’s spine, lighting up his face.</p>
<p>“Last few days? Oh. So... Like... I’ll go soon?”</p>
<p>He wasn’t sure how he felt about that anymore.</p>
<p>   They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the waves crashing.</p>
<p>Usually, Mol couldn’t stand the quiet. It gnawed at him all over, digging claws into his mind, driving him mad.</p>
<p>But it wasn’t so bad with Uk’otoa there.</p>
<p>Molly became aware slowly that his hair was being pulled into a braid down one side.</p>
<p>He lay as still as he could, enjoying the sensation.</p>
<p>Touch was nice.</p>
<p>Touch was so, so nice.</p>
<p>Kind of comforting, kind of strange. But then again, Mol lived his life as strange as he could manage.</p>
<p>“Who was it?” He asked, wondering where the mans utter loathing for junkies had come from. “The guy you tried with before, who were they?”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa was fascinatingly bewitching. (Not that Molly could spell either of those things!) It was confusing, but comforting somehow. The man had gone from captor to god damn super hero in just a couple of weeks. As gentle hands wove his hair into place, Mol wondered where this master criminal had learned to braid.</p>
<p>“I ran into him when I was still in highschool.”</p>
<p>The truthful response came as a surprise, but Mol listened intently.</p>
<p>“I was kind of an asshole, so I fell in with other assholes. He just happened to be one of them- had a bunch of kids running shit for him at the start.”</p>
<p>The hands in Mollys hair stalled. Just for a moment.</p>
<p>“He ended up being a kind of mentor, kind of father figure. But he dipped into his own supply and got hooked. Then just... kept on dipping until it killed him.”</p>
<p>Mollymauk knew at once that he may well be the only other living soul who knew that much about Uk’otoa.</p>
<p>“If I find out you said anything to anyone, you’re both dead.”</p>
<p>Molly nodded. He understood now. Why those honeyed eyes had looked at him with hate. Why he had taken Mol away. And why he agreed to take Mol back.</p>
<p>“Fuck... Damn I’m sorry... Course I won’t tell. Not like anyone would believe me anyway. Perks of bein’ a dumb addict, see?” </p>
<p>“Stop apologising. He started an asshole and died one.”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa grunted, and went back to the braid in Molly’s hair.</p>
<p>“I’m a decent liar.” Mol pointed out. “”It bothers you, right? Or it did. I won’t tell. But you don’t have to bullshit me. Plus that’s kinda my thing, y’know?”</p>
<p>The broad shoulders rose and fell.</p>
<p>“It makes me angry.”</p>
<p>That was as much as he was going to get. Mol was glad, even so. He wondered how many people Uk’otoa had to even talk to.</p>
<p>   Perhaps it was the black cloud looming ever present, or perhaps it was the blathering withdrawals making Molly so honest. Either way, he flicked his lip-rings and admitted quietly,</p>
<p>“I don’ wanna break again...”</p>
<p>“Breaking isn’t always bad.” Came the kind answer. “Like resetting a bone. If it didn’t heal properly the first time.”</p>
<p>“I wanna be strong.” Mol whispered. “Like Luc, like Yash. They lost memories and family and they’re still badass... I wish... I wish... I wish I wasn’t the weak one...” </p>
<p>He felt the hands in his hair twitch slightly.</p>
<p>“That’s why isn’t it? That’s why I keep goin’ back... ‘cause I ain’t strong enough to deal with shit, so I just dive to shoot up and... and...”</p>
<p>He petered out.</p>
<p>It hurt.</p>
<p>The black cloud hurt.</p>
<p>“I think...”</p>
<p>Crimson flicked up as the man spoke again.</p>
<p>“If you were to ask me mere days ago, that is exactly what I would have called it. But this time around, here and now, has not been that of a weak person, Mollymauk. It has been entirely shit, and you haven’t tried to swim to shore for a hit.”</p>
<p>His tone shifted slightly, as though Uk’otoa was trying to sound as detached as he could manage.</p>
<p>“But weak or not, I do not care. Just don’t waste my time by going back to it after all this.”</p>
<p>The fingers pulled away from his hair.</p>
<p>Mol was about to protest, but-<br/>
“There. It’s done. Now if you start throwing up again it won’t get stuck in your hair.”</p>
<p>Molly grinned, running a hand over the intricate braid all down the right side of his head.</p>
<p>“Woah, cool! Can I see?”</p>
<p>“Unless you’ve gone blind in the last two minutes, I don’t see why not.”</p>
<p>“You got your phone on you? Can I borrow it?”</p>
<p>Uk’otoa watched Mollys face for a moment, deliberating. Then produced a phone from his pocket, and opened the camera without unlocking it. He passed it to Molly, who immediately seized it and began taking a series of photos in quick succession.</p>
<p>*Click*</p>
<p>A photo of the braid in detail, showing the trail of perfectly even perfectly spaced strands of hair all the way down to Mollys neck.</p>
<p>*Click*</p>
<p>A curious expression on his face as he looked closer at his eyes. The red was brighter, shinier than before. Like... More alive?</p>
<p>*Click*</p>
<p>An image of Mol laid in Uk’otoas lap.</p>
<p>*Click*</p>
<p>A photo of Mol sucking on his middle finger, pulling a face.</p>
<p>*Click*</p>
<p>That one was an accident. But it caught them both, neither looking at the screen. They were bathed in grey light.</p>
<p>A thought struck Mollymauk as he examined his braid again in the camera.</p>
<p>“What can I call you?”</p>
<p>It was a silly question. A pointless question. </p>
<p>Uk’otoa frowned.</p>
<p>“James is fine.” He paused, then added. “I am not calling you ‘Bloodhunter’ unless you start wearing a mask and a cape.”</p>
<p>Mol took the name and tested it out on his tongue. </p>
<p>“James..?” He purred the name, but- “Huh... don’ suit you really. You got another name?”</p>
<p>James Uk’otoa continued to frown down at Molly.</p>
<p>“That’s my name. The same name I give everyone else. Do you mean my surname?”</p>
<p>Mol was shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Nah, sorry. You ain’t a James. Too normal. I’ve fucked a lot of James’s.” </p>
<p>He was intrigued now.</p>
<p>“Yeah, what’s your full name, hey? Or is it really James Uk’otoa? Bit formal ain’t it? You’d have fitted in well with our parents. They’re all about that world...”</p>
<p>Mol stopped.</p>
<p>What was he playing at?</p>
<p>Making nice with this guy?</p>
<p>Had he lost his mind?</p>
<p>*Yes,* came the dreadful answer. *Lost it long ago.*</p>
<p>Getting clean wouldn’t bring sanity back. Just rawness.</p>
<p>“Except,” the voice called Molly back out of the blackness. “I am a James. And isn’t that the point of a full name? Being formal? What did your parents do, anyway?”</p>
<p>Mol rolled his eyes. “I never knew exactly. Something what involved a lotta meetings with important folks, and poncy dinner parties and shit like that.”</p>
<p>He wiggled a lip-ring in his teeth and considered James Uk’otoa from his place in the mans lap.</p>
<p>“You need a better name.”</p>
<p>That sentiment was met with a raised eyebrow.</p>
<p>He did need a better name. Something fitting. Dependable. Thoughtful, steady, somewhere between fast paced and slow strength... Like a gentle walk. Like music... Something like...</p>
<p>“Andante.” Mol declared, lifting the free hand from playing with the new braid and touching Uk’otoas cheek.</p>
<p>“Oh Jesus Christ.” The man shook his head. “I’m getting a bloody superhero name too now am I?”</p>
<p>Mol smiled.</p>
<p>“Course you are. You’re a superhero too, right? Or are you more of a baddie? Bet you’d look great in a cape!”</p>
<p>He broke off, beginning to giggle at the idea of James Uk’otoa, legend from across the seas, wearing a turquoise cloak as he stalked the streets of Nicodranas.</p>
<p>The man was still scowling.</p>
<p>“Andante.” Mol explained, “Means a song played at a steady pace. Dependable, kinda. Like going for a walk. Like you.” </p>
<p>He should move his hand.</p>
<p>He knew he should.</p>
<p>But Mollymauk was never very good at doing what he should.</p>
<p>Uk’otoa didn’t appear to have noticed.</p>
<p>“Oh, so I’m ‘dependable’ now, am I? I will remember that next time I have to deal with your dear brother.”</p>
<p>They stared at each other for a second.</p>
<p>Two.</p>
<p>Three.</p>
<p>Then James Uk’otoa blinked.</p>
<p>“I told you not to touch me.”</p>
<p>   All at once, the world turned upside down. Heavy hands whipped Molly under the shoulder blades, flipping him onto his face, slamming into the couch cushions.</p>
<p>“Ahhhhnnnfff!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>BANG</p>
<p>   A bullet shot past him, imbedding in the wall of the apartment. </p>
<p>Sparks.</p>
<p>A lighter, brandished in his face.</p>
<p>Lights.</p>
<p>Darkness.</p>
<p>Choking. Gasping. Begging. </p>
<p>Scrambling. Reaching nothing.</p>
<p>Drown.</p>
<p>Drown.</p>
<p>Drown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Was he under water?</p>
<p>Was he thrown overboard?</p>
<p>He must have finally blown it.</p>
<p>Was he high?</p>
<p>Must be...</p>
<p>Breathe.</p>
<p>Can’t.</p>
<p>Can’t...</p>
<p>*I did it.*</p>
<p>*It was me, meant for me.*</p>
<p>*The hit should have been me.*</p>
<p>Hit for a hit.</p>
<p>Needed a hit.</p>
<p>Need a hit.</p>
<p>*Am I high?*</p>
<p>All he was worth.</p>
<p>Words exploded in his mind.</p>
<p>“Don’t do that again.”</p>
<p>“Lorenzo..?”</p>
<p>It had to be.</p>
<p>Was it all just a dream? Another pathetic fantasy where he got out?</p>
<p>The man kept him so well. Locked up in his own mind.</p>
<p>No...</p>
<p>*No... we killed him... he’s dead... Lorenzo is dead...*</p>
<p>Waves smashed against the ship.</p>
<p>And Lorenzo loomed out of the dark cloud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Shut up and shoot up, Little Molly.”</p>
<p>He felt hands at his elbow again.</p>
<p>*No...*</p>
<p>“Thorn in my fucking side. Why do I keep you around, huh?!”</p>
<p>“Lore...” Molly fought to extract himself from the cushions.</p>
<p>“Lore, I- I...”</p>
<p>Heat trickled through his veins.</p>
<p>*NO NO NO NO*</p>
<p>“Lore!! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I’m sorry please! I can’t breathe please?!”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Then it all stopped.</p>
<p>The weight lifted. Vanished. Gone.</p>
<p>Molly sat up at once, choking, staring wildly around.</p>
<p>The ship swayed.</p>
<p>The clouds sat as grey as ever.</p>
<p>Lorenzo was dead.</p>
<p>But where was-</p>
<p>“Andante?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Thud.</p>
<p>“James?”</p>
<p>Molly shoved himself to his feet, only mildly aware that he was still only wearing a bath towel.</p>
<p>The living room looked the same, if a little blurry at the edges.</p>
<p>Colours shimmered through Mollys vision.</p>
<p>Andante was blue. Blue like the sea. Blue like the strings on his bass. Blue like the sky after a storm.</p>
<p>Blue haze sat in the centre of the room, surrounding the kneeling shape of a man.</p>
<p>Mol knew he should have run.</p>
<p>Run away, Mollymauk. Save yourself.</p>
<p>Run down to your bass and play and play and play.</p>
<p>Play until you pass out.</p>
<p>Play until the black clouds break you.</p>
<p>Play until you run out of songs.</p>
<p>But Mollymauk was never any good at doing what he should.</p>
<p>He ran straight into the lion’s den, reaching out- ready for the snap.</p>
<p>Prepared to recoil. To be shot at, spat at, yelled into submission.</p>
<p>“Andante?”</p>
<p>James Uk’otoa had dropped like a stone. He knelt like a statue, fumbling with his phone as fat tears welled up in gold eyes and splashed down his face.</p>
<p>Mol crouched down at his shoulder.</p>
<p>“...Hey..? James? Andante?”</p>
<p>He found his hands on the mans arms, his hands, his hair. He knew he was seconds away from getting punched but he didn’t care.</p>
<p>“Hey... Hey... What... What happened?”</p>
<p>Then Molly caught something on the air. Tiny words rippled the blue surrounding James Uk’otoa. So quiet he could have missed them.</p>
<p>“...thought I was better... Always told myself I was better than those fucks... Because I’m clean, because I wasn’t them... But I’m just... Just the damn same...”</p>
<p>Molly gripped James’ shoulder.<br/>
“Andante? You ain’t them.” He wasn’t entirely sure who ‘them’ was, but at a guess, he figured Lorenzo might be one, and the former father figure could be another. “You ain’t them. I swear down, Andante you...”</p>
<p>   He caught a glimpse of the messages the man had been shakily typing out.</p>
<p>The phone trembled in heavy hands.</p>
<p>[To: Ti<br/>
Shut it all d]</p>
<p>[To: Ti<br/>
Down. Shut it all down. We’re done.]</p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>